


New York State of Mind

by webofdreams89



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Actress Angie, Alternate Universe - Canon, Bisexual Peggy, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Peggy centric, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5681953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webofdreams89/pseuds/webofdreams89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After transferring to the New York office of the SSR, Peggy has fallen into a rut.  Her boss and coworkers underestimate her skills and it's been a while since she's felt close to anyone.  That all changes when the death of an old friend throws her right back into the game.  </p><p>Or: It looks like Peggy will be chasing ghosts just a little bit longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New York State of Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [basset_voyager](https://archiveofourown.org/users/basset_voyager/gifts).



> This was written for the [MCU Femslash Holiday Exchange](http://http://mcufemslashholidayexchange.tumblr.com). It started out as a 2000 word story and got away from me. Oops.

As she absently stirred her mixed drink, Peggy’s thoughts strayed to her work day.  She’d delivered a stack of mail to the post office, made coffee, filed cases they never wanted her to work on, and answered the phone.  It was exactly like yesterday and like every day since Peggy moved to New York after the war. 

The transfer was under the guise of helping build the New York office as the Soviet threat to North America grew.  Really, Peggy knew it was because people were tired of her, an outspoken woman, stepping on their toes and doing a better job than they ever could.  She realistically knew it had been out of Phillips hands and his apologies and speech about how he “knew Peggy would live up to her legend when the time came” meant little to her at the moment while she was little more than the girl who ran to the deli for lunches. 

Still, it was either this or head back to England and prove everything her parents ever said exactly right.  Envisioning her mother’s pinched grim face and her father’s smug smile, she knew going home wasn’t even an option to her.

A woman sat down in the barstool next to her, her skirt rustling against Peggy’s.  Peggy’s hand stilled and she looked up.  The woman was blonde, corkscrew curls hair falling past her shoulders, and smiling widely like Peggy was the bright spot of her day.  Pretty in that wholesome sort of way.  Maybe she’d the bright spot in Peggy’s day too.

“I’m Dottie,” she said, reaching out to shake Peggy’s hand.  Her accent wasn’t one of the New York ones she’d grown used to, but she couldn’t quite place it.  Something western or midwestern possibly.  “I was sitting at the other end of the bar and thought to myself, ‘I’ve never seen anyone look so sad in my whole life.’”

“Not sad exactly,” Peggy said, angling her body toward the woman.  “More melancholy I suppose.”

“Well that’s no good either!”  Dottie briefly touched Peggy’s arm and smiled.  “You can tell me to buzz off if I get tiresome, but what’s making you frown so much?”

“Oh, you’re alright.  Just clashing ideas with my boss,” she said, shrugging.  As an afterthought, she added, “I’m a telephone operator.”

Maybe it was the drink, but she’d opened up more in thirty seconds with Dottie than she had in the years since Steve’s death.  Come to think of it, this conversation was probably the longest she’d had with anyone in months.

“Let me guess!” Dottie said, drawing in a deep breath.  “You don’t want to be just a telephone operator, you want to be the boss.  Or you want a better job.”  Tilting her head in contemplation and lowering her voice, Dottie added, “You strike me as one of those career gals.”

Dottie wasn’t exactly wrong about that.  Peggy laughed.  “I do?  How so?”

“You’re smart, I can tell.  Good at what you do, but your coworkers can’t see it.  I can see it written all over your face.”  Dottie leaned a little closer, her hand finding Peggy’s arm once again.  They were at a ladies’ bar where you could do that sort of thing, but it still took Peggy a moment to relax into the touch.  “What can you see written on my face?”

Peggy saw little lines around her mouth that indicated a lot of frowning and concentration for someone so young and makeup that didn’t quite cover a mostly faded bruise over her left eye.  There were a million reasons a woman would have a bruised eye like that, especially if Dottie frequented ladies’ bars. 

It seemed impolite to point it out so Peggy played coy.  “I’m not sure just yet,” she said, keeping her voice light, intrigued. 

Dottie laughed, her thumb brushing back and forth over Peggy’s arm.  “Good,” Dottie said, “I wouldn’t want you to know all my secrets right away.”

*

Dottie went home with Peggy that night.  When she first moved to the United States, Peggy went to the bars often enough that she became a regular face.  She had affairs with women, and occasionally a man, that were interesting for the time, but nothing ever stuck.  Eventually, the bars lost their except for the occasional night out when she really needed to unwind. 

Her evening with Dottie was fun.  She was a surprisingly good lover, a considerate one.  Peggy had trouble getting a perfect read on her, but that was alright.  She didn’t have to have everyone picked apart immediately. 

They made plans to meet up for lunch in a few days, and then Dottie left.  Peggy spent the rest of the evening reading a book a friend from England sent her in the mail about two college roommates turned lovers.  It ended tragically, so Peggy always skipped the end and imagined them instead getting a house on the beach or buying a farm together

The next day, work passed much the same way.  A few of the men left the office for a case that, according to the reports she typed up afterward, wasn’t anything more than a child with an overactive imagination.  Afterward, she was tempted to grab dinner and head out to the bar again, but it just felt like too much work.  She was still sore from Dottie the night before and didn’t know if she was just lonely or if she actually felt like company.  Making up her mind, she ate dinner at one of her favorite restaurants and headed back to her building. 

Her building was older, filled with mostly immigrant families.  There were no other English people as far as she could tell, but the variety of European accents she heard made her feel a little more at home.  While her place was small, it was in her price range and perfect for her to move into after her old roommate Colleen got married.

“Hold the door!  Please hold the door!” someone said behind her.  She turned and saw a woman rushing toward the door, arms precariously full of paper grocery bags.  Peggy stepped forward and grabbed one of the bags as it began to tumble from the woman’s arms.

“Wow, the reflexes on you!” the woman said, grinning widely.  Peggy secured the bag in her arms and looked up at the woman.  She was pretty, with her curled hair and blue dress and twinkling eyes.  Very pretty actually.  Peggy gulped a little.

“I do try,” Peggy said, her lips tugging out into a smile against her will. 

The woman’s eyes widened.  “And that accent!” 

“I’m from England,” Peggy said.  Like it wasn’t obvious.  Pretty people didn’t often make her feel foolish, but this woman seemed to be the exception.

The woman’s smile widened.  “So’s my director, but I like the sound of your voice a lot better.  Less shrill.”

Bewildered, Peggy asked, “I beg your pardon?”

“He yells a lot,” she said, shrugging as best she could with two bags of groceries still in her arms.  “When the actors don’t _act_ exactly the way he sees in in his head.”

“You mean you’re not mind readers then?”

The woman laughed, loud and unashamed.  “Oh, I like you!” 

She stepped inside the door, still talking.  Peggy figured she was supposed to follow as the woman hadn’t reclaimed her groceries.  “And I wish I was.  My job would be so much easier if I knew what that man was thinking even a quarter of the time.”  She stopped for a moment and Peggy had to lock her knees so she didn’t run into her.  The woman looked back at her, still smiling, and said, “Oh, I’m Angie by the way.  And you’re…?”

“Margaret.  Peggy.”

“Peggy from England,” Angie said to herself, like she was mulling it over.  “My parents haven’t mention you.”

“Your parents?” Peggy asked, taking a quick step so she was walking next to Angie. 

“Yeah, they live in the building and they’re big gossips.  I’m just here to drop off some groceries before I have to run to practice.”

Peggy had been with the SSR for years and the British Armed Forces Special Air Service even before that.  She’d always passed all her physicals and fitness tests, but she still struggled to keep up with Angie and her energy during a short walk down the hallway. 

They eventually made it to Angie’s parents’ apartment.  Angie talked the entire time she put groceries away, so Peggy figured it was alright that she lingered.  She was thankful that Mr. and Mrs. Martinelli, who were polite to her when they passed in the hallway, weren’t home.  It would have been awkward being in their presence when she couldn’t stop staring at their daughter.  Only Angie’s younger sister was home, sitting at a desk twelve feet away doing homework.  Her face lit up when she saw the pie Angie slide onto the counter, but other than that she seemed to ignore them.  Except for the occasional sibling ribbing.

“Giana’s always been a brain like that,” Angie said, looking fondly at her sister.

“I keep telling you to call me Gina!” she hissed, face turning red.  “If you can change your name, I don’t see why I can’t!”

“Your name isn’t Angie?” Peggy asked, curious.

Angie made a face.  “Oh it is.  After I hired her, my agent told me I wasn’t getting many roles with a name like Angie Martinelli.  She suggested I adopt stage name, so I go by Angela Martin.”

Peggy leaned against the counter, face thoughtful.  “I quite like the name Angie Martinelli.”

Gina snorted and Peggy felt herself flush.  Angie smiled at her a little and then turned to fold up the paper grocery bags and slide them into a cupboard.  She turned to her sister.  “Tell Mamma and Papa I’ll be back on Sunday for dinner.  Love you!”

Gina mumbled something under her breath and Peggy followed Angie from the apartment.  They chatted for a few minutes in the hallway and bid each other goodbye.  Angie was half way down the hall when she turned around and said, “You know, I’m glad I met you English.” 

Peggy certainly was too.

*

When Peggy went into work the next morning, she immediately knew something wasn’t right.  Her coworkers, even ones she didn’t particularly get on with like Krzeminski and Thompson, wouldn’t meet her eye and the sorrowful looks Sousa sent her way every few minutes.  No one had even asked her to make more coffee, which sealed it in her mind. 

Anxiety flowed through her.  She was getting fired, she just knew it.  Years of her life down the drain.  Hell, her _entire_ life down the drain because the British Armed Forces and the War and the SSR had consumed nearly every waking moment of her life since she reached adulthood. 

Chief Dooley finally called her into his office a little after ten.  She took a seat across from him, heart beating as she held her breath.  She was ready to plead her case, ready to tout her years of experience and accomplishments if that was what it took. 

It wasn’t. 

The look on Chief Dooley’s face wasn’t one she’d seen before and certainly wasn’t the expression he’d wear when having to fire someone he didn’t even like all that well.  He looked upset, disturbed by whatever it was he had to tell her.

“Sir, please just tell me,” she said when he wouldn’t speak. 

He must have been holding his breath as well, because his body sagged as he exhaled.  “I know all about your service during the war, Carter.  I know you worked under Colonel Phillips with the Howling Commandos and are acquainted with James Falsworth.”

An icy cold clamped around Peggy’s heart, one she hadn’t felt since she was knee deep in Axis territory and reading the deceased lists so often and with so much guilt she could recite them. 

Her voice shook as she said, “Yes, Chief Dooley, I know James Falsworth.  He’s a good friend.”

Dooley’s lips pulled into a thin line.  “I’m sorry, Carter.  James Falsworth was found dead yesterday.”

Peggy’s eyes squeezed shut, so tight they hurt.  She wouldn’t let the Chief see her cry even though that’s all she wanted to do.  It hurt, picturing Falsworth telling one of his ridiculous jokes that only fellow Brits like Peggy seemed to appreciate.  I just hurt.

She took a few deep, shallow breaths until she grew calmer.  “I’d like to know what happened to him, Chief Dooley.”

Dooley grimaced.  “Believe me, you don’t want the details, Carter.”

Peggy squared herself.  “James Falsworth was a longtime friend and colleague.  I need to know what happened.”

“Up to you Carter,” he said.  By his posture, she could tell he just want wanted the conversation to be over.  “The report they wired over this morning said he was found in the basement of his home.  There was evidence that he’d been down there a while.”

Filling in the blanks, Peggy asked, “He was tortured?”  Dooley nodded.  “Do they know why?”

“Not yet, but the SSR will be looking into it.”

“He left the military after the war and has been living as a civilian.  What could they possibly want to know?”

Dooley’s face hardened a little.  “Like I said, Carter, the SSR will be looking into it.”

Peggy nodded, knowing that pushing Dooley wouldn’t help her case.  “I’d like to see the report if that’s alright.”

“It doesn’t say much,” he said, but handed it over, eyes swinging to the look out the window.  “You can take the day if you need it.”

She didn’t.

It was silent when Peggy walked out of Dooley’s office.  Her shoes clacked loudly as she walked back to her desk, pulling her chair out more noisily than necessary.  Making a little extra noise was the only release she had when she wanted so badly to scream and throw things.  She sat and opened the file Dooley handed her. 

The report was short, only one page, and left Peggy feeling hollow.

*

Peggy called Dottie to reschedule lunch.  She wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone no matter how good of a distraction Dottie had been last time.  This was different.  It wasn’t just melancholy at life, it was grief.  She stayed until the end of her shift, no one speaking to her even once, and went home. 

Barely inside the door, Peggy dropped her purse, slid down the door until, and sobbed. 

*

 

Peggy dozed off at, waking when she heard someone knocking at her door.  It was rare that anyone came to visit her.  Colleen dropped in every once and a while, but less now that she was raising a baby and had another on the way.  Howard visited every once in a while, always offering her a bottle of his favorite expensive bourbon.  She’d drank a few fingers of some after she’d finally stopped crying. 

Glancing at her watch, Peggy saw that it was only 8:30, much earlier than it felt.  She stood and stretched, calling out, “Just a moment.”

“I’ll be waiting,” a voice replied.  Angie. 

Nearly tripping over her own feet in haste, Peggy dashed to her mirror.  She looked tired and her eyes were still red and swollen.  Grimacing, she wetted a cloth and quickly scrubbed her face before slapping on some concealer, eyeliner, reapplying her lipstick, and finger combing her hair.  She knew she didn’t look great, but it was better than before.

Wiping sweaty palms on her skirt as she walked to the door, Peggy opened it.  “Hi Angie.”

“Hi!” Angie replied.  Her smile was wide again.  It was enough to make Peggy feel a little more human, a little more like herself.  “Play practice got done early tonight because my director threw a hissy fit, so I went to visit my parents but thought of you instead.”  Angie grimaced and added, “That’s if you want my company.  I know we just met, so you probably think I’m being odd.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be the best company tonight,” Peggy said.  She thought about the way that Angie had made her smile the day before and how nice it had felt.  Maybe she could use that tonight after the day she’d had.  “But I’d love some company.”

Angie’s smile widened, and Peggy let her inside.  Angie set her purse and bag on the floor and shrugged out of her jacket.  She wore a pretty navy skirt and white blouse, curls pinned back and wearing a bolder lipstick than she had the day before.  She looked lovely. 

Angie bent to pick up her purse and bag, holding the bag out to Peggy.  “I brought peach schnapps and pie,” she said, and if Peggy didn’t know any better, she’d say Angie was flushed. 

It made Peggy wonder if Angie really had been going to visit her parents with peach schnapps and wearing bright red lipstick or if she’d intended to visit Peggy all along.  Peggy wasn’t going to call her on it.  Knowing that Angie might have gone out of her way to see Peggy again made her feel warm.  “That sounds wonderful.  I haven’t eaten dinner.”

“English!” Angie admonished, unloading her bag on Peggy’s small kitchen counter.  “That’s not healthy.”

“I really don’t skip dinner often.  Today was just unexpectedly bad.”

Angie turned to face her, frowning.  “I thought your eyes looked a little sad tonight.”  She glanced away and bit her lip before looking back at Peggy.  “You can talk to me if you want to.”

Peggy wasn’t sure she wanted to, but James Falsworth deserved to be remembered, just as he deserved justice.  Something she was going to start working toward the next day.  “This morning I found out that a friend passed away.”  She paused, debating, before she added, “Someone I knew in the service.”

Taking a step closer, Angie’s voice went soft as she said, “Peggy, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Tears sprang to Peggy’s eyes again.  She fought them, though not as hard as she had in Dooley’s office.  “Thank you, Angie.  He was a good man.  A good friend.” 

“I…I lost my best girlfriend when I was still in school.  She got that bone cancer and was sick for so long.”  Angie trailed off, before a sad smile slid across her face.  “I guess we’ve all lost people too soon.”

Steve’s death, and the death of everyone else Peggy had ever lost, her grandparents, her fellow soldiers, jolted through her sharp and quick.  “We have.”

Rather than let the sadness linger, Peggy opened her cupboard and pulled out two glasses and then fetched a knife to cut the pie.  Peggy prepared their drinks and snacks and ushered Angie to her small sitting area.  She offered Angie her one comfortable chair and pulled a collapsible wooden one from her closet for herself to sit in. 

They ate and sipped their schnapps in silence until Angie asked, “So you were in the service?  Did England have something like WAC?”

Peggy gave Angie a very glossy version of her service, leaving out her affiliation with the SSR entirely. 

“Well,” Angie said, raising her glass in Peggy’s direction, “thank you for your service, Peggy Carter.”

They talked a little longer until Peggy announced she had to get to bed soon so she could be at work early the next morning.  Angie hugged her and Peggy found herself feeling not better exactly, but less raw.  Her mind lingered on that hug even in her dreams.

*

Work the next morning was a lot closer to normal, though the men in her office were still tentative with her.  Some of them ignored her entirely.  That was fine by Peggy.  It gave her plenty of time to think while she typed up reports and corrected Krzeminski’s grammatical errors. 

Peggy was positive that Falsworth was truthful when he wrote to her and said he’d left the service after the war.  She’d never heard anything from Falsworth himself, the SSR, or the Howling Commandos to contradict that either.  So if it he was a citizen, unless he’d gotten in over his head with gangsters or something, his death had to be related to his service in the war. 

Hydra was gone, though that didn’t mean that every person ever associated with Hydra was.  In fact, it was unlikely that there weren’t at least some of them out there somewhere, hiding out.  The Commandos had so many missions, had dismantled so many bases, it would be impossible to yet figure out what exactly prompted his torture and death.  And while Hydra had been their main focus, there were plenty of other groups they could have angered.  Any of the Axis countries had reason to be upset with the Commandos.  Their unit was covert, but mistakes happened in the field.  Someone could have found out Falsworth was a Commando, which meant he likely knew Captain America.  Everyone that knew of its existence wanted information on the super soldier serum, and that didn’t bode well. 

It was a logical starting place, but Peggy needed more information before she decided her next course of action 

She bid her coworkers a good evening at the end of her shift and took the bus across town to Howard Stark’s mansion.  The busses only went so far, not venturing into the richer parts of town, so she was forced to walk the rest of the way. 

Howard’s house was quiet when she approached it from the back way.  The lawns were manicured, the gardens spacious and aromatic, and the house was worth more money than Peggy would ever see in her lifetime.  His property was so large it seemed to be its own neighborhood. 

It occurred to her while she was still at the office that if someone was looking for information on the serum or the Commandos, Howard would be a logical target.  Or even, possibly, Peggy herself.

Her suspicions rose and she lifted the skirt of her dress to pull out a gun from the holster she nearly always wore.  Entering the garage from a door that opened into the gardens, Peggy saw one of Howard’s many cars parked haphazardly, rather than pulled in straight like the others.  She got a little closer and saw that it was close enough to scrape another car with the driver side mirror broken and lying on the ground five feet away. 

The car’s passenger door was still wide open like someone made a quick escape.  Stepping around the car and closer to the door that led to the main house, she saw a few drops of blood on the ground.  She peaked inside and saw a sizable stain on the driver’s seat.  The keys were still in the car. 

Easing the door open, Peggy walked inside the house, careful to shut it silently behind her.  More drops of blood and a smear of blood where the injured person had clearly fallen scattered the floor.  Farther on, there was evidence of another person with a different tread of shoe than the one she’d seen on the floor of the car.  Did it belong to friend or foe?

As Peggy followed the blood trail, she heard what sounded like someone hissing in pain and someone else whispering to them.  It was too quiet to tell if either of the people were Howard. 

They clearly didn’t know she was inside the house or they wouldn’t have been so loud.  That, or they were the distraction while someone else moved into position to take her out.  Peggy was on her own and had to simply hope they were oblivious. 

Peggy counted to five and quietly released a deep breath, psyching herself up.  Gun pointed in front of her, she rounded the corner and moved in. 

A shot rang out and a bullet pierce Peggy’s shoulder.  Her vision blurred and she grimaced, aiming her gun to fire. 

“Jesus Christ, Carter!  I could have killed you!” 

It was Howard after all, shirtless and sitting propped up in a chair facing the door.  He had a pistol in his hand while another man bent over him. 

“I’m certainly glad you didn’t,” Peggy wheezed.  She set her gun on a table by the door and clutched her shoulder.

“Looks like you have someone else to patch up next,” Howard told the man. 

The main didn’t look up from the stitches he was sewing into Howard’s ribs.  “I can hardly contain my enthusiasm.”

“Pull up a chair, Peg,” Howard said, waving his gun toward a chair not too far from where he sat.  Peggy stumbled over and sank into it.  The room wasn’t one she’d been in before and looked like a small infirmary.  It was complete with cabinets of first aid supplies, a sink, and other medical equipment that wasn’t found in most homes.  Probably not even most mansions owned by eccentric millionaires. 

The man handed her a clean towel and she pressed it to her wound.  He glanced behind Peggy and frowned, “Looks like we’ll have to dig the bullet out, Miss Carter.”

“Great,” she said faintly.  “I can hardly contain my enthusiasm.”  The man cracked a smile. 

Howard’s face turned down and he said, “Shit, Peggy, I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

She in Howard’s general direction and said, “So you were expecting company.”

“I was,” he admitted, “just not you.”  Peggy glanced at the man, who had bent back over Howard’s wound and appeared to be ignoring them.  “That’s Jarvis by the way.  He’s my butler.”

“Do normal butlers have to sew their bosses up with such frequency I wonder,” Jarvis mused aloud. 

Howard laughed.  “Hell if I know.  Guess you’re just special, Jarvis.”

“Hm.”

Turning his head back to Peggy and reaiming his gun at the door, Howard said, “I’m not actually sure who attacked me.  Though I’m hoping you might know something, showing up outta the blue like this.”

Jarvis tied off the last stitch and threw his equipment into a sanitation bin and washed his hands. 

“I don’t know,” Peggy admitted.

Howard frowned, and it look like it cost him.  His face was a mass of purpling bruises, not much better looking than his ribs.  “Then what brings you?”

“Falsworth is dead.”

Behind the bruises, Howard paled.  “No,” he said, voice awful and quiet. 

Jarvis slipped on a new pair of gloves and knelt in front of Peggy.  “I’m afraid your dress doesn’t seem salvable, Miss Carter.  I’m sure there’s something in the house you can change into when I’m done.”

“Go ahead and cut it,” Peggy said.  She was still looking at Howard.  Seeing his grief made her feel her own all over again. 

Grimly, Jarvis nodded.  He cut away only enough of Peggy’s dress so he’d have access to her wound.  With a pair of medical tweezers in hand, he said, “I’m afraid this won’t be pleasant,” and then reached inside her.  It did hurt, it hurt more than any of Peggy’s prior injuries.  It probably hurt worse than actually being shot.  After checking to see if her bones were intact, something that hurt eve more than having the bullet removed, Jarvis began to sew her up.

The entire time, Howard was silent, until he said, “I just can’t believe he’s dead.”

Peggy could empathize, but at the same time, something big was clearly going on here.  “What happened to you Howard?”

His eyes refocused on her.  He reached over to the table next to him and poured himself a glass of the bourbon.  “I’d just gotten back into the country after returning from a vacation in Monaco when I was taken.  I mean, my plane had literally just touched down and I was walking to the car Jarvis had waiting for me, when they snatched me.  According to Jarvis, no one saw anything, except I was there one moment and gone the next.

“I woke tied to a chair.  It was this small brick building with only a few room.  The room I was in was basically empty except for the chair.”  Peggy noticed the bandages around his wrists and the angry pink skin beyond them.  “I thought for sure it was because of either my weapons or my inventions.  I get threats because of them nearly every single day, so it made sense.  Only they never asked a damn thing about either of them.”

“Can you describe them?” Peggy asked, wincing a little as Jarvis began to stitch her up.

The hand Howard still had stretched toward the door shook.  “There were only two of them that I ever saw.  They wore masks.  One of them was a woman.

“I pretended to be unconscious as long as I could and heard them say some stuff that didn’t make any sense to me.  ‘The other one is no longer useful.  It has been taken care of.’  They spoke Russian.  Probably didn’t know I could understand them.”

Howard drew in another breath.  “I wasn’t supposed to make it out of there.  I know I wasn’t.  The woman kept promising me that if I just told her everything I knew about the Howling Commandos, they she’d let me go.”

Peggy looked up sharply.  “The Howling Commandos?  Not Project Rebirth?”

Howard let out a hollow laugh.  “That’s what I thought they’d ask too.  They never even mentioned it, or Captain America, or Steve Rogers.  Not directly at least.  Just the Commandos.  And now Falsworth is dead.”

It took Peggy a moment to notice that Jarvis had finished stitching her wound was cleaning and sterilizing the equipment.  The room was silent.

“I went over it in my head all day long and I can’t even begin to narrow it down why they’d torture Falsworth for information,” Peggy said. 

Flinching, Howard said, “James was tortured too?”

She felt bad for saying it after everything Howard had gone through, but Howard was the only one she could talk to about it and also the greatest wealth of information she had. 

“Yes,” Peggy said, “they found him in his basement.  I just want to know, why James?”

“Who knows?  Maybe it was proximity.  If it’s the Russians, he was hell of a lot closer to the motherland than the rest of us.  Denier has been in the States for a few years now.”

“Howard, they kidnapped you _here_.  ‘The other one is no longer useful’.  If that’s Falsworth and he died around the same time you were kidnapped, that means this is probably more than just a few people.  It’s at least a group, with agents that can be deployed both here and in Europe.”

“I haven’t even thought about that kind of thing in years,” Howard admitted.

Peggy’s eyes narrowed.  “You work in weaponry.  You invent weapons for a living and occasionally deal with the SSR and you haven’t thought about that kind of thing in years?”

He let out a wry chuckle.  “It kind of lost its luster.  After…”

After Steve died, he didn’t say.  The way Howard reacted after Steve died made Peggy wonder.  She’d understand if it was true.  She wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t true with Steve and Bucky.  But they were dead and gone now, and there were new things to worry about. 

“Yeah, it did.”  After a moment, she asked, “How did you escape?”

“My quick wit,” he replied, though it was devoid of the usual heaping of narcissism his statements came with.  “I was only with them about ten hours.  It was the man.  I don’t think he had the same training the woman had.  He let his guard down and I stole a key to who the hell knows what from his pocket while he was leaning over me and carving up my chest.  Every time they left the room, I sawed the ropes until my hands cramped.  Eventually, I was able break through one of them.  I waited until they were gone again and untied the other one.  Walloped him in the head on the way out.  She was nowhere to be seen. 

“I have a bunch of cars parked around the city for shit like this.  I ran to the nearest one.  Made it about a block away when I heard the whole damn building blow.”

“I doubt they’re done with me, so I’m heading to one of my safe houses soon and see if I can do a little digging from there.  I already laid off my entire staff with a sizable check so they don’t get caught if the Russians show up here.  You should go into hiding too.”

She should.  If someone was picking off Howling Commandos and their associates, they Peggy was logically on their list.  They might even already know she’d gone to visit Howard. 

“I can’t,” she said.  “The SSR is taking Falsworth’s case and they have routes of investigation that we won’t have acting on our own.  Also, if it is some Russian faction, a big one, we’d need their authorization to go after them.  They have governmental resources.”

“True,” Howard said, though Peggy could tell he didn’t like it.  He’d never much been one for toeing the line.  “But since I’m no longer apart of the SSR, I also have channels you don’t.”

“We’ll work together then.  And I’ll have to dig up something concrete before I bring it to the SSR.”

“James’ death and my kidnapping isn’t enough?” Howard asked, incredulous. 

Peggy wanted to snap, but Howard honestly didn’t know how it was for her.  “I’ve had more concrete evidence that they’ve turned their noses up at before.  Because I’m a woman, they think I’m hysterical, that this is all fantasy for me.  It has to be big before Dooley will give me the time of day.”

Howard’s scowl pulled his mustache out in a funny line.  “I’m going to call the rest of the Commandos to warn them and see if they’ve noticed anything going on.  Stay safe then, Peggy.  Check in with me several times a day, if only to let me know you’re still alive.  If they’ve already come after me, I see no reason why you wouldn’t be on their list.”

Peggy knew he was right.

*

Thankfully, the next day was Saturday, which meant Peggy didn’t have to report to the office unless she got called in for something big.  If the Russians were involved, they were probably lying low after Howard’s escape.  They couldn’t afford to stand out if they wanted to recapture him.  Also, given his relationship with Peggy and his celebrity, he wasn’t something they could mess up a second time.  And now that he was in hiding, they’d have a much more difficult time of it. 

The weekend gave Peggy time to rest after getting shot.  She needed it, though she didn’t rest quite as much as she should have considering she spent a good deal of the time working.  She checked out the location Howard was held at and found the scene taped off and still smoldering.  They must have used a good number of explosives to bring down the entire building like they had, given that it was now a pile of rubble.  She did a quick check of the perimeter and poked around the rubble though she knew she wouldn’t find anything.  She’d have to see if she could get information another way. 

Peggy’s next stop was to break into the SSR.  It wasn’t really breaking in, she supposed, given the fact that she had her own set of keys to the office.  Still, Dooley and the ever frowning Thompson wouldn’t be pleased if she got caught there after hours.

She dug up everything she could possibly find on the Russians, their intelligence, their involvement in the war, any connections they might have to Howling Commandos, not leaving until it was late enough to be early.  She Xeroxed it all, praying no one would be around to hear the loud machine.  It took quite a bit of paper and put a sizable dent in their supply, but she doubted that anyone would notice.  She was the only one that ever seemed to go into the supply room. 

Peggy then looked up the building Howard was held in and found it listed as being abandoned.  As far as she could tell, the office had no notice of the explosion.  At least not that could access. 

After lugging the large bag full of papers home with her, making sure no one saw her sneaking into her apartment building, she stayed up reading through it until dawn.  There was more of it than she could go through in one sitting, and the between the pain of her wound and the fact she was exhausted, she felt delirious.  She stashed the papers in a compartment in her wall that she’d made when she moved in.  Peggy had to move her dressed each time she wanted in it and use pins so thin you could hardly see them to hold the wallpaper in place.  If someone really wanted to find them, they might, but it made her feel safer than leaving some things out in the open.

Peggy stripped out of her clothes, not bothering with her nightgown, and slept until eleven.  She was supposed to meet Dottie for a late lunch after she’d cancelled before, so she cleaned up as best she could without getting her wound wet.  Washing her hair in her sink was a pain, but she managed.  Styling her hair was worse, but she couldn’t let on that she was injured. 

Dottie seemed happy to see Peggy when she finally arrived at the restaurant nearly ten minutes late.  “I apologize,” she said when Dottie hugged her, hiding the wince that threatened to shake her body when Dottie put too much pressure on her shoulder.  “I had trouble finding the place.”

“That’s alright,” Dottie replied, sitting down across from her.  “I’m just glad you’re here.”

They had pleasant conversation throughout lunch and even went for a walk.  They passed by a poster of the play Angie would be starring in in just a few weeks, _Sabrina Fair_.  Peggy smiled when she saw it. 

“What are you smiling at?” Dottie had asked, her arm looped through Peggy’s.

“Oh, it’s just this play.  I know the lead actress.”

Dottie dragged Peggy up to the poster so they could look at it more closely.  “Angela Martin,” Dottie read, studying the poster.  In it, Angie was cartoonized, sitting on a red brick wall.  Somehow, they’d managed to capture her wide smile.  “She’s very pretty.”

“Angie’s great,” Peggy said, hoping her voice wouldn’t give too much away. 

Dottie talked Peggy into letting her come over for a bit, though there was no way Peggy could have sex with her today, not with her wound.  A bit of company wouldn’t hurt though and would provide her brain with a decent break from all the research.

Several times, she found Dottie’s eyes straying to the small photograph she kept on her dresser, the one of Steve looking off in the distance not long before he took the serum.  “Who is he?” Dottie asked, voice guilty, after the forth or so time Peggy caught her looking.

A current of unease filled her.  It made sense for a practical stranger to ask about the only photograph Peggy had in her apartment.  She knew that.  But there was something she couldn’t quite place her finger on.

“Someone I used to know,” she answered, schooling her voice to sound sorrowful and hoping Dottie wouldn’t ask any more questions.  Sorrow made most people uncomfortable.  “He passed away.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dottie replied, scooting closer.  If Peggy didn’t know better, she sounded just a little too earnest. 

After fifteen minutes of stilted conversation, Peggy announced she had plans with some friends and Dottie left. 

In reality, her plans consisted dressing in a sharp skirt suit, using makeup to roughen and age her features, pulling her hair back in a bun so tight it made her head throb, and going to the police precinct closest to the explosion site. 

The station was fairly empty when she walked in, exactly what she’d been hoping for.  She set her suitcase harshly on the secretary’s desk, and said, “I’m the explosives expert Detective O’Leary called in to work on one of his cases.”

The secretary looked up at her, eyes widening.  She was young and by the way her throat bobbed, already nervous because of Peggy.  “Detective O’Leary didn’t tell me an explosives expert would be coming in.”

Peggy frowned, hard enough that the secretary gulped again.  “I’ve just taken the train in all the way from Boston and now you’re trying to tell me I’m not supposed to be here?”

“I didn’t say that!” the secretary, Amelia if Peggy’s file of information on the precinct was accurate, said.  “L-let me just call him and see what he says.” 

The girl rang him three times.  Peggy knew he wouldn’t answer.  From experience working with him before, she knew Detective O’Leary was notoriously unreliable and typically spent his Saturdays with his girlfriend in the apartment he rented for her downtown while his wife took their sons to baseball practice and made eyes at some of the other moms. 

“Let me just call his partner, Detective Daniels.”  Daniels was Peggy’s ticket to getting the information.  He was a pushover that hated O’Leary and had a huge crush on Amelia.  If she was in enough distress, he would come in and give Peggy the information himself.  O’Leary and Daniels were good enough cops, not like many she dealt with, but they had weaknesses that were easy for her to exploit.

“Detective Daniels?” Amelia asked when he answered the phone.  “T-there’s a woman here that says she’s a bomb expert-”

“Explosives expert,” Peggy cut in, giving Amelia a curt look.

“-an explosives expert.  She says Detective O’Leary called her in.  Yes.  Yes, that would be great, thank you.”  She hung up the phone and looked at Peggy.  “Detective Daniels said he would down to the station in about twenty minutes.”

“If I’d known that,” Peggy said, taking a seat to wait, “I would have checked into my hotel before coming straight here.  Do you know how many cases I have back home?  Do you?”  Amelia shook her head, no longer looking at Peggy.  “Then I come all the way here as a favor to O’Leary because he helped me with a case a few years ago, very minimal help might I add, and he can’t even answer his phone!  _He_ was the one that said it was urgent.  _He_ needs my expertise on this case, while _I’m_ the one that has to wait.”

Every few minutes or so, Peggy let out another slew of language that Amelia nodded her head at, but otherwise stayed quiet.  She felt a little bad about her treatment of Amelia and didn’t like intimidating her like that, but she needed information more.  Lives depended on it. 

Daniels showed up and after assessing the scene, he led Peggy to his office.  She showed him her credentials and they discussed the case a bit before he handed the file over.  She requested a copy of it and waited as Amelia got it ready for her.  Nearly out the door, Peggy turned back to Daniels and said, “I hope you tell O’Leary what a pompous jerk I think he is pawning me off on his flunky after he asks me for a favor.”

Between insulting his position, badgering Amelia, and Daniels own issues with O’Leary, Peggy knew Daniels wouldn’t relay the message.  In a few days, Peggy would send an assessment of the explosion to Daniels in the offhand chance he and Amelia came under scrutiny.

The report didn’t really tell Peggy anything she didn’t already know.  Because the explosion was after hours in a warehouse district, no one had been around to hear it and it wasn’t reported for nearly ten minutes.  There were no leads, though O’Leary suspected teenagers might be involved. 

Peggy moved on to the research she got from the SSR.  She spent hours pouring over pages and pages of text trying to dig up connections between the Howling Commandos and Russia and nursing enough bourbon to keep her wound from hurting quite so much.  She also talked to Howard on the phone.  He said he’d gotten ahold of the majority of the Commandos, none who’d reported anything unusual.  He’d let her know more after he talked to the rest.

Sunday morning, she woke up with her face pressed into a stack of papers on the table in front of her.  She probably would have spent her entire Sunday the same way if Angie hadn’t shown up at her apartment and asked if she wanted to have dinner at her parents’ place.

“It’s just that every single week, my mother asks when I’m going to give up acting and get a husband.  I’m tired of hearing it.”  Angie’s face had been red as she said it.

“So you’re hoping to divert you’re mother’s attention by having her ask me when I’m getting married instead?” Peggy asked, raising an eyebrow and fighting a grin.

Angie’s face crumbled.  “It sounds pretty crummy when you put it that way.  I didn’t mean it like that, honest.”

“I’m joking, Angie.  I’d love to come.”

It turns out, Mrs. Martinelli _did_ ask Peggy if she had any prospects and what her parents thought of her living in the United States all by herself.  But she also asked about her life in England and her time in the service, so it wasn’t all bad.  Peggy could tell Angie enjoyed her stories, asking questions every once in a while, while Gina enjoyed embarrassing her sister.  Angie’s older sister and brothers showed up with their families, crowding the apartment. 

“You’re just lucky all my brothers are married,” Angie said as they left, “or Mamma would be trying to make you my new sister.”

“I don’t know how good I’d be at being your sister,” Peggy answered truthfully.

Angie looked at her, face unreadable for the first time since they’d met.  “I definitely like you better this way,” she said in a soft voice. 

*

Between Peggy’s research and Howard’s inquiries, the trail seemed cold before they’d ever even found it.  She met up with him at his safe house, careful to make sure she wasn’t followed.  They compared notes, growing frustrated when they realized just how little information they had. 

“If the SSR is working Falsworth’s case, can’t you just ask them what they have?” Howard asked at one point.

Asking them would be pointless and she told him so.  They’d just tell her buzz off and go back to typing reports and filling coffee mugs like a good little secretary. 

“Still, there might be a way around that,” she admitted.  That evening, Peggy broke into the office for a second time, looking through everything Dooley had in his office.  If he was working Falsworth’s death, he didn’t keep the information in his office. 

*

“Before I got my big break,” Angie said as they sipped from coffee mugs in a diner, “I used to work here.”

“In this very diner?” Peggy asked, looking around. 

The L&L Automat was a place Peggy had been to a few times, but never put much thought into. 

“Yep!” Angie said.  “I started working here while I was still in high school.  The war was going on then, so it was mostly women too tired to cook dinner after working in the factories all day.  I loved listening to their stories though.  Times were tough, but they were so full of life and determination. 

“But then the war ended and all the boys came home, and before I knew it, this place turned into something I couldn’t stand.  I vowed then that I would make it as an actress just so I wouldn’t have to deal with them for the rest of my life.  I saved my money for an acting coach and recited Shakespeare in front of my bedroom mirror every single night.  I was determined.”

“I bet you were adorable practicing in front of your mirror.”  Angie’s face reddened.  Smiling, Peggy said, “Seems like it paid off.”

“Yeah, it did.  Eventually.  I got turned down for parts dozens of times before I landed the role of Emilia in _Othello_.  I already had all my lines memorized the first night of practice,” Angie admitted with a laugh.  Peggy found herself laughing too.  “It wasn’t a big part, but it was what I needed at the time because I was just about ready to give it up like my mamma kept telling me to do.”

“I admit that I haven’t been to the theater for a long time, but I’d love to see your play once it opens.”

Angie looked surprised, but pleased.  That twinkle was back in her eye.  “I think I might be able to snag you a ticket if you play your cards right, English.”

*

The next time Peggy talked to Howard, he reported that all the Commandos had finally gotten back to him, were on alert, and would be reporting in daily via Jarvis. 

“None of them know a damn thing, Peg,” Howard said the next time they met up.  “I’m glad because it means they haven’t been targeted, but it also means we don’t know a damn thing more now than we did the day you came busting into my place.”

“Something will eventually give, Howard.” 

“Unless they got everything they needed out of Falsworth.  Something bad could be happening and we don’t even know about it.”

“Something bad has already happened.  I overheard Dooley talking to Thompson the other day.  It looks like Falsworth’s end wasn’t quick.  He was there for days.  If my timeline is right, you were taken after he was already dead.  That means that even if he gave them something, it wasn’t what they were looking for.”

Howard sighed.  “Yeah, you’re probably right.  You’ve played this part of the game a lot more than I ever have.  I was just the mad scientist.”

“Mad scientist or not, the think you know _something_ , Howard.”

*

It seemed that Dottie didn’t give up.  She rang Peggy just about every day, trying to make plans to meet up for dinner or at the bar.  Peggy made up an illness, hoping it would be enough to keep Dottie away.  She no longer invited Peggy out, instead asking over and over if there was anything she could do for Peggy.  It was getting to the point Peggy was tempted to see if she could change her phone number. 

Several weeks passed.  Peggy continued to dig through files and kept her ears open for anymore snatches of information at the office.  Nothing.  Howard didn’t fare any better. 

Still, Peggy’s gut told her that this wasn’t the end of it.  She knew something was going to happen. 

In the meantime, Peggy kept on.  She hung out with Angie a few more times because it seemed to be the only time she felt as if she wasn’t drowning in an ocean of what she didn’t understand.  Angie had a way of making her feel, well, not calm because Peggy’s heartrate spiked in her presence, but at peace.  They went out of the movies to see the newest Gene Kelly musical and back to the L&L Automat and once Angie even made Peggy dinner at Angie’s apartment. 

Peggy wasn’t to the point her guard was down just yet, but the thing that ended up giving, as she told Howard, was the last thing she ever expected.

*

She was in a dead sleep when pounding on her door woke her up.  It was loud and startling and thankfully her door was far enough away from any neighbors that it probably wouldn’t bother them. 

Peggy pulled a robe on over her nightgown and put her slippers on.  With one hand wrapped around a small gun, hidden in the pocket of her robe, she approached the door.

Standing off to the side just in case, Peggy said, “Yes, hello?  Who’s there?”

A sob rang out, followed by a shaky voice saying, “Peggy Carter?  I need your help.”

She’d almost been expecting Angie, or maybe even Dottie.  This was a woman she’d never seen before, though there was something a little familiar about her face.  Still, she recalled how Howard said one of the Russians was a woman, so she kept her guard up.

“Who are you?”

The woman let out another sob, brown hair tumbling into her eyes.  “Please,” she said, shaking so hard she had to lean against the doorway. 

Concerned, Peggy grabbed her arm and gently pulled her inside.  Her skin was like ice.  Ushering her over to the good chair, Peggy handed the shivering woman a blanket and put on a kettle for tea. 

Peggy wanted to question her immediately, but experience told her it wouldn’t do any good until the woman calmed down.  She waited patiently for water to boil, filled two tea cups, and slipped a teabag inside each. 

“I have milk, honey, and sugar if you’d like,” she told the woman.

The woman looked up and Peggy was struck again by her face.  It was her eyes, the shape and color.  She’d seen them before, she was sure. 

“I-I drink my tea plain.  We never had much g-growing up so I got used to the taste.”

“I’m not too fancy either,” Peggy said, bringing the cups over and setting one before the woman.  Peggy blew on the tea a little and sipped it.  The tea was hot, but not hot enough to incapacitate Peggy if the woman really was a Russian spy and decided to fling it in her face.

She waited until the woman took a few sips and wrapped her hands around the cup for warmth.  “Tell me why you’re here,” she said, keeping her voice gentle.  Steve once told her that the soothing sound of her voice hid the fire underneath her skin, that it was useful.  While it was probably awkward flirting on his part, it was nevertheless something that stuck with Peggy, something she used.

The woman’s breath hitched.  She was young, probably still in her teens, and Peggy had to squelch the protective instincts that tried to come through.  Just in case.  “H-he told me to come here.  He said you would keep me safe.” 

“Who told you that?” Peggy asked.  “Howard?”

“I don’t know anyone named Howard, except for Mr. Owens that owned the grocery store.  No, it was my brother.  My brother told me to come here.” 

The woman met Peggy’s eyes again, and then something slid into place.  Peggy had heard the expression “my blood ran cold” many times before, but that was the first time she’d ever felt it.

“Who is your brother?” she asked, fighting it.  Because it was absurd.  Because Steve watched him fall thousands of feet to his death.

“Bucky,” the woman said, her voice barely more than a whisper.  “Bucky said you knew him while he was a soldier.”

Peggy wanted to scream.  If this was the plot the Russians had come up with, they were off their game.  There’s no way anyone would fall for it.

The longer she looked at the girl, though, the more Peggy knew it was true.  This girl was Bucky Barnes’ sister.  This girl would have still been a child when Bucky died and Peggy was still in Europe at the time.  There was no way Bucky would have told his sister to cross an ocean so Peggy could keep her safe unless…

“He’s alive.”

The girl flinched, tea sloshing over the side of her cup and onto her hands.  She didn’t seem to notice.  “Yes, he’s alive.  Sort of.”

This was all so wrong.  It fought against everything Peggy knew about the world.  Men just didn’t survive thousand foot drops, and there was no reason for Steve to lie about it.  His grief for his best friend had been real. 

In a hoarse voice, Peggy asked, “What’s your name?”

“Rebecca,” she said.  “Though he always called me Becky.” 

“Tell…tell me what happened.”

“I was sleeping,” Becky began, wiping her hands on the skirt of her plain dress.  “I woke up when I heard a noise in my room.  I’ve always been a sensitive sleeper.  At first, I thought it was just one of my roommates sneaking in to borrow something.  But the moon was streaming into my room and I saw that it was a man.  I was ready to scream, but he stepped a little closer and I saw it was Bucky.  His arm was all shiny in the moonlight, like it was made out of metal.  I thought I was still dreaming.  Bucky’s been dead for years.  I-I mean, his death made dad drink himself to death a year later and then made mom work herself to death a year after that.  And Steve was dead too, everyone was.  Bucky _had_ to be dead. 

“Then I felt like screaming even more because how could my brother be alive?  How could he be standing in my room like that?”  Becky started to cry again, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.  Peggy offered a clean handkerchief.  “He just looked at me and said my name and I threw myself at him, hugging him so tight.”

Becky wiped her face.  “He was awkward about it, which was weird because Bucky always loved to touch people and hug them.  Then he wrapped his arms around me and it was the best feeling I’ve had in years even though his shiny arm was ice cold.  When he pulled away, he said we only had a moment and that I had to go to you because I was in danger.  I kept trying to ask him who would want to hurt me, but he said it was too long a story.  Bucky drove me here in a car we could never afford and at one point, someone started shooting at us.  Bucky pulled a gun out and began driving in circles until we lost them.  We drove around for more than an hour trying to dodge them.  At one point, Bucky got so frustrated that a piece of the steering wheel broke off in his metal hand.  It was scary.  Then walked me up here.  He kissed the top of my head and told me to knock on your door, that you would protect me.”

That meant Peggy had missed seeing Bucky by mere seconds.  Why couldn’t he have come in and told her all this himself?  Of course she’d protect his sister, but she had to know what she was dealing with to do so. 

“He never said who was going to hurt you?” She asked.  “He never said where he’s been this whole time?”  She felt so close to it now, so close to the unwinding truth.

“No,” Becky said.  “He just said that he’d keep an eye on me when he could.”  Becky took another shaky breath.  “I asked him that since he’s alive, did that mean Steve was too.  He shook his head and I think I made him cry, Peggy.  He looked so sad.”

Peggy felt like her guts were being wrenched out.  She had to protect this girl, though, if Bucky wanted her too.  Bucky, her last thread to Steve.

Peggy didn’t have a clue what to do.  She could possibly take Becky to Howard’s safe house and protect her from there.  That didn’t feel right.  Howard was still a target and should he get captured, the Russians or whoever was after them would get Becky too.  It felt safer to have Becky somewhere else, somewhere separate.  Not to mention that Howard didn’t have the sort of training Peggy did. 

Peggy had a few safe houses set up around the city herself, but there was no way she could protect Becky at one of them and confer with Howard about what she’d just found out and continue to work on the case.  The SSR though, they had resources to protect people.  They could keep Becky safe with an entire guard of security.  Nothing was ever guaranteed, but it was better than what Peggy could do alone. 

She walked back over to Becky and handed her one of the pastries Angie brought the last time she’d been over. 

“Becky,” she began, “I work for an intelligence agency, the same one that Bucky and Steve worked for during the war.”

Becky seemed to have at least a hint about what Peggy was talking about.  “There were a lot of things they couldn’t talk about in their letters,” she said. 

“Your brother was declared dead and while I still don’t know how he survived, it’s probably better that no one knows he’s alive just yet.  There has to be a very important reason he’s kept it secret, even from you.  If we tell anyone, it could put a target on his back.”

Becky paled.  Peggy felt bad about scaring her, but she needed to know how important it was that she did what Peggy said. 

“I understand,” Becky said, her face determined.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do.”

*

“So she’s telling me,” Dooley began as he and Peggy stepped out of one of the interrogation rooms, “that a bunch of Russians tried to kidnap this girl from her apartment and she ran all the way across New York because her dead brother told her about you years ago?”  Dooley’s voice was incredulous.  Peggy didn’t blame him.  Thompson looked at her with a critical eye, had since she’d called it in and the SSR sent a car and several agents to scope the building out before extracting Peggy and Becky. 

“I know Becky,” Peggy said, crossing her arms.  It made her shoulder ache, but it was much duller than it had been.  “I’ve visited her several times since I was transferred here.  Her brother, Sergeant Barnes, and I were good friends and since her entire family is dead, I’m not surprised she came to me.  If they’re trained, it’s a wonder she made it.” 

“She said she noticed a few Russians hanging around her recently,” Sousa said, joining the conversation.  “She’s the sister of a Howling Commando.  Falsworth’s neighbor said they heard people speaking Russian outside his house three days before he was found dead.”

The look Dooley gave to Sousa was withering.  “Zip it, Sousa, would you?” 

Peggy _knew_ the SSR knew more about Falsworth’s death than they were telling her. 

Turning back to Peggy, Dooley said, “We’re going to give Barnes a few more minutes, and then we’re going question her again, see if we can get a few more details out of her.  Carter, since you know her so well, I want you there,” and stalked off, Thompson on his heels.

“They think the Russians are involved?” Peggy asked, turning to Sousa.  He’d always been nicer to her than the rest of her coworkers, less likely to dismiss her just because she was a woman. 

Sousa wrestled with himself for a moment before he said, “It’s really the only lead we have.  According to the agents that combed the crime scene, his basement was totally clean.  So was the rest of his house.  The only thing clue we have is one of Falsworth’s neighbors reporting that she heard people speaking Russian outside in the middle of the night when she went downstairs for a drink of water.”

“How’d she know it was Russian and not another Eastern European language?  They can sound similar to people that aren’t fluent.”

Sousa smiled a little.  “Turns out the woman’s grandmother was Russian and refused to learn English even after she moved to England.  So the neighbor spoke a fair bit of it.”

Peggy didn’t want to press too hard, didn’t want to raise suspicion, but she couldn’t help herself.  “So people speaking Russian is the only thing we have to go on in either case.”

Tilting his head as he studied her, Sousa said, “Dooley sent some people to Barnes’ apartment so maybe we’ll learn more.  But for now, yeah, it’s all we have.”

“By any chance, what did the neighbor hear the Russians say?”

“She said she only heard one thing clearly.  зимний солдат.” 

Peggy’s Russian was good enough to translate.  The Winter Soldier. 

She shivered.

*

They questioned Becky once more, Peggy holding tight to her hand the entire time.  In a way, it was almost like they really had known each other as long as they said.

Dooley groused that Peggy had been up all night and wouldn’t make it to her shift the next day if she didn’t get some sleep at some point.  She knew it was his way of telling her to get out of their hair.

Before she left, she approached Becky and held her arms out to the girl.  She seemed to understand, hugging Peggy with a veracity Peggy hadn’t expected.  Aware that other agents were still around, Becky whispered, “I don’t think Bucky is safe either.  He’s in trouble, I can tell.  Who’s going to help him?”

“I’ll do everything I can to help your brother,” Peggy reassured her, dropping as kiss to the top of her head.  She would too. 

*

“Have you ever heard of the Winter Soldier?” Peggy asked without preamble. 

Howard stood up when he saw the look on her face.  “Something’s happened,” he said, walking towards her.

“The Winter Soldier,” she repeated. 

Howard nodded and moved to pour both of them a drink.  “I’ve heard whispers of it before.  From what I’ve gathered, it’s some sort of top secret weapon.”

“Or maybe it’s a person,” she said, thinking of how Becky said Bucky’s arm was made of metal, of how he was different.

“Peggy?” Howard asked, concerned. 

Taking a long gulp, Peggy drained her glass and relished in the heat that slid down her throat and into her belly.  “Bucky Barnes is alive.”

Concerned morphed into disgust.  “What the hell are you on about, Peggy?  Why would you even say something like that?”

She glared at him.  “Because it’s true.  His little sister showed up at my door hours ago, crying about how her dead brother came to warn her that she was in danger.  That the Russians were coming for her.” 

Howard was quiet long enough to pour himself another glass and drink it.  “All this time,” he began, his voice steadily rising as he spoke, “we’ve thought Bucky was dead.  He wasn’t, and suddenly shows up when we’re neck deep in a mess we don’t know a damn thing about!”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” 

Howard laughed bitterly.  “Nothing ever is.”

“Where did you hear about the Winter Soldier?” she asked.

Paling, Howard said, “It was about a year ago after this meet up with other arms dealers.  He called himself Karpov, though I’m sure that wasn’t his real name.  I’d seen him at the same conference a few times before.  I was drunk and we were debating different countries technological advances.  But I do remember him saying something along the lines of how getting his hands on the Winter Soldier would guarantee his victory.  I thought it was a little odd and asked him why he didn’t just build his own.

“Karpov said he didn’t know enough about the original to replicate it, that he’d get his hands on it to study before he could build more.  Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him since then.”  Howard refocused on Peggy.  “You said that the Winter Soldier might not be a weapon.  That it might be a person.”

“Or both,” Peggy said, horrified at the thought.  “I’m making a bit of a leap here, but bear with me.  Becky said that her brother was different than what she remembered.”

“Well, he was a prisoner of war, was a sniper, saw combat, and has been up to who knows what since.  I’d be surprised if he wasn’t different.”

“He also managed to sneak into her apartment without waking her or any of her roommates.”

“Well, he was trained to be quiet during the war,” Howard said. 

“She also said he had a metal arm.  A metal arm strong enough to break a steering wheel.”

Howard’s eyebrows rose up at that.  “A metal arm,” he repeated.  “Cybernetic?”

“I have no idea,” Peggy said with a shrug.

“I thought we were years away from that.”

“Someone clearly wasn’t.”

“So we have Barnes, a fully trained soldier and expert marksman with a metal arm, who everyone already thinks is dead.  He’d make a hell of an assassin then.”

“Bingo,” Peggy said, glad he was finally understanding.

“My only question is _why_.  Why on earth would Bucky Barnes, the best friend of Captain America, be working as an assassin.  And for who?  The Russians?”

Peggy began to pace.  “No,” she said slowly, “the Russians just want him.  That’s why they’ve been going after people that knew him.  You, Falsworth, his sister.  They want information on him so they can capture him.”

“With his sister, he’d probably be easy to lure into a trap.  You saw with Steve how he’d go all out for the people he cared about,” Howard said.

“Yeah,” Peggy said quietly, knowing Howard was right.  Bucky would. 

Sitting heavily in the chair he rose from when Peggy first showed up, Howard said, “So his sister is in SSR custody now, right?  I take it you didn’t tell them about her brother.”

“No, I couldn’t do that,” she answered, sitting down across from him.  She could feel her body waning. 

“They might be able to help,” Howard suggested, though Peggy could tell it was only half-hearted.

“No, I don’t think they could.  Because if Bucky Barnes is alive, he’ll be a liability to the United States government.  A soldier with all his training that was supposed to have died in 1945 and suddenly has a metal arm of unknown origin who has potentially been working for another country?  Liability.  He’ll be branded a traitor and they’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

“He could be an assassin for the United States,” Howard said.

The room lapsed into silence.  Peggy looked at Howard and saw that he looked as tired as she felt despite his bruises being mostly healed. 

He noticed her looking and frowned.  “His sister said he was different.  You think they did something to him?  Whoever he was working for?”

“We can’t really count anything out that this point,” Peggy replied. 

At least not until she talked to Bucky herself. 

*

Peggy hadn’t expected work the next morning to be entirely different, but she had expected it to be a bit more different than it was.  Dooley informed, “Rebecca Barnes is safe in protective custody for the time being,” and that was that. 

She hadn’t gotten her hopes up, she really hadn’t.  Still, she thought she’d get at least some recognition for protecting and bringing in a witness, for connecting a thread.  She should have known. 

Worked ended, and Peggy went home, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before she began her search for Bucky Barnes.  She tossed and turned for nearly an hour before she climbed back out of bed and walked to her mirror.  Peggy reapplied her makeup, spritzing her favorite perfume on, and left her apartment. 

She knew Angie didn’t have rehearsals that night, having done a dress rehearsal during the afternoon.  Peggy’s determine trek across town faltered by the time she finally reached Angie’s door.  She felt silly.  She hadn’t been invited and Angie probably had other things going on, other friends to spend time with.  Still, Angie showed up at Peggy’s door uninvited.  Maybe it was okay for her to do so too.

The smile that slide across Angie’s face when she saw Peggy stilled her nerves.  “English!” she said, reaching out to take Peggy’s hand.  “I’m so happy to see you.”

At that, Angie ushered her inside and to her dining table.  “Dinner is almost ready.” 

Peggy felt antsy as she sat there until Angie said, “I actually called your apartment to see if you wanted to come over for dinner and was a little disappointed that you didn’t answer.  Yet here you are.”  Angie looked up from the bread she was slicing, and their eyes met.  “It’s like fate.”

Peggy felt her body grow hot and charged.  If Angie could say things like that, then Peggy could be brave too.  “I was thinking about you.  That’s why I came here.”

Angie’s face flushed with pleasure, and she turned around to the stove.

They remained quiet, but it wasn’t so bad now that things were becoming a little clearer.  Angie finally walked back to the table with two plates of food.  The aroma hit Peggy when Angie set it in front of her, and her stomach growled.  Come to think of it, she’d hadn’t eaten since the day before. 

“It both smells and looks wonderful.”

Angie bit her lip for a moment while she uncorked a bottle of wine before she said, “It’s my grandmother’s gnocchi recipe.  And I picked up a tiramisu from this Italian bakery near the theater.”

“You’ll spoil me,” Peggy teased. 

“Nah,” Angie said, waving her hand, “I don’t think that’s possible.  You’re just as sweet as can be.”

*

After dinner, they took the bottle of wine and went to sit in the living room.  Peggy knew she probably wouldn’t get any work done that night by that point, but between the wine and Angie who kept looking at her in that special way, Peggy couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. 

“I just can’t believe the play premieres tomorrow!” Angie said at one point.  “It feels like we only just began rehearsals.”

“Time really does fly,” Peggy answered.  She was feeling warm, happy.  Honest.  “We haven’t know each other that long, but if feels like we’ve been friends for years. 

“That’s true,” Angie said.  Peggy liked the slight flush on her cheeks.  Neither of them drank anywhere near enough to make them drunk, so Peggy hoped that it was from their proximity to each other.  Angie grabbed something from the table next to her and handed it to Peggy.  “Before I forget, here’s your ticket.  I hope you’ll come.”

“Nothing could keep me away,” Peggy admitted.  She tucked it into her purse so she wouldn’t forget it.  When she turned her focus back to Angie, she found the other woman sitting much closer than she was before. 

Angie looked so much shier than Peggy had ever seen her, shy and determined.  “I keep second guessing myself,” she said, “but I hope I’m reading this right.”

Peggy felt herself blush too.  “I think you are.”  She put her hand out toward Angie, palm up.  Angie let out a slow sigh of relief, and grabbed Peggy’s hand.  

“I hoped you were interested.  I hoped it wasn’t just me,” Angie said, pausing long enough for Peggy to murmur, “I am.”

“You know,” Angie said, looking down at their entwined hands, “I saw you a few times at a ladies’ bar.  You were so beautiful and I wanted to approach you so badly, but I talked myself out of it every single time.  By the time I worked up the courage, I stopped seeing you there.  I figured you met someone, maybe one of the pretty girls I saw you talking to.

“Then I ran into you here, in the very building I grew up, and you were so much more wonderful than I could have imagined.  You were funny and smart and kind.  Peggy,” Angie said, squeezing Peggy’s hand, her voice thick with emotion, “please say something.”

“I’ve been falling for you since we met,” Peggy admitted.  The words were barely from her mouth when Angie’s lips were on hers, pressing hard and desperate.  That small action, the thing she’d been daydreaming about for weeks, was enough to make Peggy groan.  She let go of Angie’s hand to palm the back of her head and run her fingers through the softness of Angie’s hair. 

They kissed for a few minutes, several hot and intense minutes that were enough to make Peggy think _she could be it_.  She’d kissed a lot of people, but she’d never felt something quite like it before.  Not even with Steve, though she’d hadn’t really had the chance to either. 

Their thoughts ran the same path and they shifted together at the same time, Peggy leaning back on the couch with Angie above her, pressing Peggy down into the cushions.  Angie’s weight on her felt amazing.  The way she looked at Peggy when she pulled back far enough to look at her made Peggy feel amazing.  And the way Angie unconsciously moved her hips as they kissed, well, that was making Peggy feel amazing in an entirely different way. 

“I don’t want to presume anything, Peggy,” Angie said.  Her lips were dark and red and Peggy wanted to kiss them again. 

“I want to,” Peggy said, breathing hard, “if you want to as well.”

Angie nodded.  “I do.  I want to something awful.”

Peggy smiled, raising her hand to touch the side of Angie’s face.  “Okay.”

Climbing off Peggy, Angie straightened and held out her hand for Peggy.  “I think we’ll be more comfortable in my room.”

She felt so light that she giggled.  Peggy couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that.  “I think we just might be.” 

When they made it to the bedroom, Angie stepped back into Peggy’s embrace and they kissed again, slower, deeper.  They rocked against each other, their bodies sliding together as their passion grew. 

Angie’s hands shook as she began unbuttoning the front of Peggy’s dress.  Peggy clasped her hands gently around Angie’s, steadying them.  “It’s okay,” she murmured.  “We can stop whenever you want.”

“I don’t want to stop.  I’m just a little nervous,” Angie admitted.  “I don’t think I’m quite as, ah, worldly as you or some of the people you’ve maybe been with.  As experienced.  I just want this to be good.”

Peggy squeezed Angie’s hands a little and said, “Because you’re here with me, it will be good.  I’m not thinking of anyone but you.”

Sighing, Angie’s shoulders eased.  “You definitely know what to say to a girl,” she said breathlessly, her smile coming back. 

“I try,” Peggy replied, faux modest. 

Angie’s hands still shook a little, but they were steadier, steady enough that Peggy let go of them and moved her hands to Angie’s hips, holding them lightly.  She patiently waited until Angie reached the end of the buttons at her waist and brought her hands up to the collar of the dress.  The fabric had enough give that Angie could slip it back off Peggy’s shoulders, and down her arms.  Peggy pulled her arms from the sleeves and felt a familiar tug of resistance in her shoulder. 

She was ready to turn away, to hide, when Angie’s eyes widened and she gasped.  “English, is that a bullet hole?”

Peggy winced.  The stitches were taken out a week ago, but the skin was still an angry red pucker of scar tissue.  It was a pretty unmistakable injury.  Still, Peggy could lie to her, tell her that some equipment at the phone company had fallen on her and injured her.  Or that she’d been mugged.  It would be easy to lie and Peggy was trained to be convincing. 

Except that Angie would know that Peggy had never once mentioned an injury the entire time they’d known each other.  She would know Peggy lied to her.  Peggy couldn’t bare the disappointment on Angie’s face, not after everything else she’d gone through recently. 

“Yes,” Peggy said, “I’m afraid so.”

“It’s recent,” Angie said, looking from the scar to Peggy’s face.  “I’m no doctor, but it looks really recent.”

Peggy nodded, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Are…are you okay?  Was there any lasting damage to your arm?” Angie asked.  She sounded more concerned than scared like Peggy expected.

Peggy opened her eyes, not liking the frown it put on Angie’s face.  “I’m fine, Angie.  There was no lasting damage.”

Angie nodded, looking back at the scar like she wasn’t entirely convinced Peggy was alright.  “Good.  I’m glad.  I knew you weren’t just a telephone operator.  I knew you were something more.”

Angie noticed the way Peggy blanched and laid a reassuring hand against her cheek.  “It isn’t obvious, English.  We’ve just gotten to know each other pretty quickly and you’re evasive sometimes.  Besides, my cousin is a telephone operator and she and all her girlfriends come home with horror stories about awful customers.  All yours are about your pig coworkers.”

“How do you feel about that?”  Peggy gulped.  “That I’m…not a telephone operator?”

Angie stepped closer again, close enough that Peggy felt the tops of her breasts press into Angie’s.  The fabric of her dress was a little rough, but it brought back some of the excitement that had been killed after Angie saw her scar.  Peggy bit her lip to keep from moaning. 

“Well, I figure you have your reasons for keeping your real job a secret.  You already told me you served, so I figure it might have something to do with that.”  Angie’s arms wrapped around Peggy’s back, arms sliding against Peggy’s bare skin.  Peggy couldn’t contain her reaction this time.  She shivered, feeling her nipples harden.

“Oh,” Angie said, feeling Peggy’s nipples against her chest.  “Yeah, we can talk about that later.  In the meantime, why don’t you let me show a veteran my appreciation for her service.”

“I-I, yeah,” Peggy stuttered, “that would be good.”

*

Peggy swung her legs over the side of the bed and recoiled a little when her feet touched the cold carpet.  “You ‘wake, English?” she heard Angie ask from behind her. 

“Yes,” Peggy answered.  “I’m just thirsty.  I’ll be right back.  Go back to sleep, alright?”

“Sure,” Angie murmured, “you know where the cups are.”

Peggy stood and walked carefully to the doorway.  She wasn’t as familiar with Angie’s bedroom as she was the rest of the apartment from her numerous visits.  And she hadn’t exactly been paying much attention to the bedroom earlier either. 

On a hook on the back of the Angie’s bedroom door, Peggy found a robe.  She grabbed it and slipped into it, hoping Angie wouldn’t mind.  Checking in with Howard wasn’t something she exactly wanted to do in the buff.  Somehow, he’d know and he’d tease her for it.

She actually was thirsty, so she filled a glass of water first and downed half of it before pulling Angie’s phone off the wall and dialing the phone number Howard gave her to memorize.  At first, she’d berated him for being hooked up to a phone line when it would be so easy to trace a phone number to an address through the records on file.  Howard assured her that no one would find him that way.  The number was registered under a false name, and that there were birth records, licenses, and a quite extensive paper trail anyone would have to muddle through, none of which connected back to Howard Stark. 

“Hello?” Peggy said when she heard the line pick up.

Howard sighed.  “Damn it, Peggy, you’re three hours late calling me!  I thought something happened to you!”

“I’m sorry, Howard,” she said.  She felt guilty now, guilty that she’d gotten caught up in her own pleasure and selfishness when there was so much else going on.  “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He sighed again.  “So what happened?  The SSR finally get a damn lead or something?  Or are they catching on?”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that.”

“Peggy, it’s the middle of the night,” Howard said slowly.  “Are you even calling me from your apartment?”

“What a thing to ask!”

He laughed.  “You’re not, are you?  Where are you?  Who are you with?”

“Howard,” Peggy said sternly.

“Please tell me it’s the actress you were talking about.  Please tell me it’s her.”

Peggy sighed.  He’d never let it go, not until she admitted it.  “Yes, it is.”

“Good on you, Peg,” he said.  “I’ve seen a few of her plays.  She’s talented.  Not to mention a real dame.”

Peggy gritted her teeth.  “Shut up now, Howard.  Don’t dig yourself so deep you can’t find your way back out.”

“Read you loud and clear,” he said, before his voice became solemn again.  “Seriously though, I was worried.  But I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I appreciate that.”

After that, they discussed their next move. 

“I don’t know if going to look for him is the best idea,” Howard said.

“Have any better ones?”

“You know I don’t.  Look, I know he’s our best lead, but he could be dangerous.  Hell, I _know_ he’s dangerous.”

Peggy knew that too and truthfully, it worried her.  “I won’t go in unprepared.”

“You need back up, Peg.  I’d send Jarvis, but he doesn’t have the training.  Promise me if you find him, you’ll call me first.  I’ll come with you.”

“Absolutely not!” Peggy said, louder than she’d intended.  She just hope that Angie slept on.  “We already know you’re a target.  They’d love nothing more than to snatch you as soon as you step back out into the world.”

“Peg, we both know you’re a target too.”

“And yet they haven’t made a move against me.”

“Not that you know of!  What if…what if your new girlfriend is a secret Russian agent.”

In a whisper, Peggy hissed, “Howard, her family lived in my building before I ever moved in.  I’ve met them.  She grew up here.  You can’t fake those Italian accents.  And I’ve been to the place she used to work as a teenager.  I met her boss there once.  That would be the most elaborate set up in history.  They would have had to plant her more at least a decade ago, long before I ever lived her.”

“I see your point, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility.  She’s literally an actress,” he said petulantly.  She sighed.  There was no arguing with him when he was like that.  “What if Becky Barnes wasn’t who she said she was?  What if you sent a sleeper into the heart of the SSR?”

“If you’d seen her, you’d know she was exactly who she said she was,” Peggy said, remembering Becky’s familiar eyes. 

“An orphan with no money to her name?  It would have been easy to get to her.  Money is a pretty big motivation when you’re dirt poor, Peg.  It can get people to do anything.”

“You’re paranoid, Howard.”

“I think I have a pretty damned good reason to be!”

Peggy was done with the conversation.  She just wanted to crawl back into bed next to Angie and sleep until morning.  “At this point, he’s our only lead.  I have to find him.”

“Promise me you’ll call me first, Peg,” he said again.  “Promise me.”

Peggy said she would and hung up the phone.  She drained the rest of her glass and placed it in the sink, walking back to the bedroom.  Peggy took the robe off and hung it back up on the door and slid back into bed.  The sheets had cooled in the time she’d been gone, so she snuggled a little closer to Angie. 

There was no possible way Howard was right about Angie, Peggy knew that.  She knew she was right about Becky too.  Still, it made her wonder if Howard was right and that the Russians really had gotten to her without her being aware.

“Was that work?” Angie asked, breaking Peggy from her thoughts. 

Peggy hesitated.  She didn’t want to tell Angie anything that could put her into danger, but she didn’t want to lie to her either.  “Sort of.  A friend of mine is in trouble.  I’m trying to keep him safe.”

Angie scooted closer, drawing Peggy to her.  “Are you in trouble too?”

Wincing, Peggy said, “Possibly.”

“Promise me you’ll keep yourself safe,” Angie said.

Peggy did, making a second promise that night she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to keep. 

After a few minutes, Angie sighed contentedly, running her hands up and down Peggy’s back.  Peggy found herself doing the same, running her hands over Angie’s bare skin.  Their lips met and that rush she felt earlier in the evening returned, though it was a little more subdued this time, a little quieter.

The kiss grew deeper, more intense.  Peggy slipped her hands down to Angie’s backside and squeezed, brought her hips closer.  “Oh god, yes,” Angie moaned.  She palmed one of Peggy’s breasts, kneading it before pinching the nipple. 

The sounds that wrenched from Peggy’s throat was enough to make Angie whisper, “Oh wow.”  So she did it again. 

Peggy drew one of her legs up between Angie’s, loving the way they fell open for her.  She dragged it up until she could tease Angie’s thighs.  She felt Angie’s legs squeeze around her, her hips rocking, straining.  She was desperate for Peggy’s touch and it made Peggy giddy to know, to be able to give Angie what she wanted. 

Finally, Peggy moved her leg high enough to touch Angie, making her gasp and grind down hard on Peggy’s leg.  She could feel how wet Angie was, could feel the way she slid easily against Peggy’s thigh.  It made Peggy groan.

Angie rode Peggy’s leg like that for a few minutes while they kissed and groped each other.  Peggy knew that wasn’t enough to make herself come, but she didn’t know about Angie.  She did know what made her come earlier, so she pulled her leg away, making Angie whimper, and slid her hand over Angie’s pussy instead.  Peggy felt the jolt through Angie’s body when she touched her, and held her through it. 

She touched Angie lightly at first to ease her into it, caressing her softly before she dipped her fingers inside a little.  Angie was wet, so unbelievably wet for her, and it made Peggy squeeze her legs together to attempt relieving the pressure of her own arousal.  Peggy dragged her wet fingertips up to Angie’s clit, lightly stroking it through the hood.  Angie’s arms tightened around Peggy and she buried her face in Peggy’s neck. 

Slowly, so slowly, Peggy picked up the pace stroking Angie’s clit, rubbing circles around it.  Peggy was barely aware that Angie let go of her with one of her arms until she felt Angie’s fingers between her legs, mimicking Peggy’s slow ministrations from only minutes before.  Peggy was already so keyed up she knew it wouldn’t take long.  Sure enough, Angie’s body tensing up in Peggy’s arms, her cry in Peggy’s ear as she came was enough to trigger Peggy’s orgasm. 

They panted in each other’s arms for several minutes after as the came down from the rush.  Peggy felt a bit too hot and sweaty, but she was also so happy and told Angie so.  “I’m glad,” Angie said, smiling.  “I like you happy.”

*

It was hard leaving Angie’s side the next morning, but Peggy had to.  She drank the cup of coffee Angie made her and ate some of the eggs Peggy made them both.  It was hard to keep her hands from Angie when she wore nothing but the robe Peggy borrowed the night before.  Her hair was tousled and her eyeliner a little smudged.  She looked like a dream.

With a lingering kiss and a promise to be at the play later that night, Peggy was out the door.  It was barely 6:30.  That gave her two and a half hours before she had to report to the office.  She hoped it was enough time to at least search Becky’s apartment for clues.

She’d gotten Becky’s address from the girl the night they met knowing she would be searching the apartment at some point.  It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, but it was the only real place she had that might offer a clue to Becky’s whereabouts. 

Compared to making sure no one followed her, breaking in to Becky’s apartment was easy.  She walked right in the front door and up the stairs to the fourth floor.  After that, it only took a moment or two to locate the right apartment.  After the SSR picked Peggy and Becky up that night, they’d sent agents to collect her roommates to place in protection as well, meaning the place would be empty. 

She made sure she was alone in the hallway and slipped a lock picking kit from her purse.  The lock was pretty simple and didn’t take her long.  She opened the door and slipped inside. 

The apartment was trashed.  Furniture was broken, splintered across the floor.  Books were torn, dishes shattered in the kitchen.  Someone had clearly been here after the SSR.  This was not the disarray of a search for clues to Becky’s whereabouts, it was petty, anger at not having gotten there first.

A quick search of the place didn’t yield too much.  She was able to locate Becky’s bedroom pretty quickly though, finding a broken picture of a young Becky, Bucky, and Steve sitting on a set of stairs.  In it, Becky was a toddler and Bucky and Steve had to be in their late teens.  They looked happy, like they were having the time of their lives.  It hurt Peggy knowing that it wouldn’t last for any of them. 

She carefully pulled the picture from the broken frame and tucked the photo in her purse to give to Becky later. 

Becky’s room looked like the rest of the apartment.  She didn’t seem to have much, but what she did have was destroyed.  Even her dresses and blankets looked like they’d been torn in two.  There was one thing that stood out against the mess though, an old wooden footlocker pressed against the wall.  When Peggy got closer, she saw that it didn’t have any of the glass or debris the coated the rest of the room.  It hadn’t been returned after the Russians left.

Peggy deliberated.  The footlocker was big enough that something dangerous could be inside, something like a bomb or a poison.  Or it could be a message from Bucky. 

The name George M. Barnes was carved onto the lid of it, the letters smoothed with age.  From his file, Peggy remembered that was Bucky’s father, the one Becky said drank himself to death after losing his son.  If Bucky left her a sign, this had to be it.  She opened it.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Peggy nevertheless found herself overwhelmed.  There was just so much.  So much history inside the trunk.  There were wedding pictures of Bucky’s parents, pictures of him and Becky and often Steve in varying ages.  There was a small album that, when Peggy opened it, realized it had belonged to Steve’s mother.  Old toys that showed signs of being much loved filled a burlap sack.  When Peggy opened a small jewelry box, she found two Purple Hearts and two Medals of Honor, awarded to James B. Barnes and Steven G. Rogers.  Tears filled her eyes. 

She’d known that Bucky was listed as Steve’s next of kin and with his death, that seemed to transfer to Bucky’s family instead.  A family that clearly hadn’t lost just one boy during the war, but two. 

It took her a few minutes, but Peggy finally managed to pull it together enough to keep looking.  Underneath the jewelry box was an ond leather book.  She pulled it out and coughed a little when she opened it, eyes still burning. 

Peggy’s heart pounded when she realized this was one of Steve’s sketchbooks, some of his work before he’d ever gotten involved in the army.  Carefully, Peggy flipped through the pages, looking at sketches of the docks with large ships in the background and parks with flowers everywhere and dancehalls.  There were some of his mother and Bucky’s family, and many of Bucky himself.  He seemed to be Steve’s favorite subject. 

Peggy began flipping through the book a second time when she noticed that one drawing had a barely noticeable corner folded down.  It was possible that age had gotten to it or that someone had boogered it up while they looked at it.  The drawing itself was a cityscape, tall buildings in the background billowing factory smoke, a grocery store across the street that neighborhood cats milled around.  A few pages later revealed the same scene with snow covering the streets.  Sure enough, the corner of this drawing was folded a little as well. 

The scene showed up twice more during different times of the year and each had folded corners.  This was something Steve saw all the time while he’d been alive, probably what he saw when he looked out his window each day. 

Their old apartment.  That’s where she’d find Bucky.

*

Though it made her purse bulge, Peggy stuffed the photographs and medals and Steve’s sketchbook inside and made her way back to her apartment.  She committed the drawing to memory and stashed them all inside her wall with all the Xeroxes from the office. 

While there, she changed her clothes and tripled the weapons she carried.  Another gun strapped across from the one she always carried.  One stuffed inside her purse.  Extra ammo, several knives, a few pairs of handcuffs. 

After debating about it while she got ready, Peggy decided against getting ahold of Howard.  Yes, the backup would be nice, but she couldn’t risk him.  Not after what had already happened to him. 

Instead, she dialed the number of the place Jarvis and his wife were staying for the time being. 

“Hello, Jarvis,” she said when he answered.

“Miss Carter,” he said, “I’m relieved to hear from you.”

“I’m going after him, Jarvis, and I need you to tell Howard I’ll contact him as soon as I know more.”

“Peggy, I don’t think-”

“ _If_ I don’t call back by this evening, have him get in touch with the SSR.”

“Peggy, please-”

“Goodbye, Jarvis.  I’ll be in touch.”

*

Peggy wasn’t as familiar with Brooklyn as she was other parts of New York.  It took her a while to find her bearings and a little pretending to be a helpless tourist before someone was able to direct her to the grocery store in Steve’s drawings. 

When she finally found the right neighborhood, not all that far from Becky’s apartment, she found that it was very different from the way it was depicted.  There was garbage everywhere and more places seemed to be abandoned than not.  Even Owen’s Grocery was abandoned though the sign was still there, old and fading.  The apartment building across from it looked as tragic as the rest of it.

She slipped around the back of the building and in through a smashed out ground floor window.  Judging by the angle, the drawing looked to be from the fifth or sixth floor.  The west facing apartments on the fifth floor yielded no evidence of Bucky’s presence, so she climbed to the next floor. 

It was the first apartment she tried, the one right next to the stairs.  She tried the handle and when it didn’t open, she reached for her lock pick.  Peggy barely had it from her pocket when she heard the lock slide back. 

Peggy repocketed her pick and reached for a gun instead.  She turned the knob and pushed the door open. 

There he stood in the middle of the room, looking as much like a ghost as Peggy had come to think of him as.  His hair was long and in his face and stubble dusted his cheeks.  His eyes were gaunt and his skin was sallow.  He looked changed, but it was more than that.  He held himself differently. 

“I was beginning to wonder if you were even real,” Peggy admitted.

“I wonder the same thing,” Bucky said, voice like gravel.  Peggy lowered her gun.  “Maybe you should keep that out.  I won’t hurt you, but you know that the people after me might.”

“They haven’t yet,” Peggy said.  She decided to keep her gun out.

“We both wonder why that is.”

Peggy _had_ been wondering.  “We do.”  She glanced around the place and saw a sleeping bag and several empty cans of food.  He’d been here at least a few days.  “His sketchbook, that was clever.”

His face remained flat.  “I knew you’d figure it out if you saw it.  I only hoped you would be the one to find the footlocker and not the Russians.  I didn’t think they’d go back after they saw it was a lost cause.”  His voice shook a little when she said, “Thank you.  For helping Becky.  I knew I couldn’t keep her safe as long as they’re after me.”

“Of course,” Peggy said.  She wanted to say more, but it wasn’t the time.  “You’ll have to tell me why the Russians are after you of course.”

Bucky’s body tensed and like a reflex, Peggy tightened her grip on her gun.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I’m sorry.”

Peggy relaxed.  “I know.”

“It isn’t just the Russians that’re after me.  They’re just more open about it because they’re desperate to get to me first.”

“Who else?” Peggy asked.  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.  She already knew the answer.  “Hydra.  Hydra’s had you this whole time.”

He really began to shake in earnest, so much so that Peggy would have missed his nod if she hadn’t been looking for it.  “I survived the fall because they did something to me back when I was a POW.  The first time.  It was something like you guys gave Steve, and it was enough to keep me alive. 

“They found me.  I’ve been piecing it all out since I escaped.  It’s hard, because I keep having these flashbacks and then new memories come and it all just hurts so much.”

Peggy didn’t want to say it aloud, didn’t want to make him hurt any more than he already did, but she needed to know what she was up against.  “They brainwashed you.”

He let out a short, hollow laugh.  “They made me their weapon.  They made me kill for them.  For years.  And each time I started to remember something, they’d wipe my brain and do it all over again. 

“They made a mistake though.  A fucking big one.  They sent me after someone in New York and I started to remember.  They were so damned cocky, sending me home and expecting me to never know the difference.  But I did!  I remembered this New York and took off.  I killed my handlers and went into hiding.”

“And the Russians found out.  Howard met someone once that said he wanted nothing more than to obtain the Winter Soldier.”

“You always were real clever, Peggy.  You put it together faster than anyone.  Hydra had to be careful because everyone thinks they’re gone and they want to keep it that way.  They couldn’t do anything that would draw attention.  But the Russians could.  We’re already scared of them and they don’t care.  They like it that way.  So they started going after anyone that ever knew me.  Falsworth, Stark, Dugan.  My sister.”

“Dugan?” Peggy asked, feeling faint.

“He’ll make it,” Bucky said.  “He gave ‘em hell.  I’m sure your office will find out soon enough.”

“Yeah, he’s always been good at that.”

 They discussed the next course of action, but neither of them had any real solutions.  The threat was too large.  And if Hydra was still around, Peggy would have to tell the SSR who had Zola essentially on payroll in sciences.  He was more likely than not feeding them information.  It would crumble the SSR.

*

Waiting until she was more than a dozen blocks from Bucky’s hideout, Peggy found a payphone and dialed Howard.  When he didn’t answer, she called Jarvis.

He sighed when she answered the phone, already knowing it was her.  “I’m afraid he’s done something rather reckless, Miss Carter.  You might want to get work as soon as possible so you can begin damage control.”

*

Thompson was on her before she’d even closed the door behind her.  He looked livid.  “You want to tell me why Howard Stark came running in here, demanding to see you and telling us you won’t leave until he does?”

“I don’t even know how to answer that,” Peggy replied dryly.  Howard looked up from where he stood across the room and Peggy could see the relief on his face.  He was to her side in seconds.

“Peggy, just the gal I was looking for!” Howard said.  He used his showman’s voice, the one he used on stage.  To Thompson, he said.  “She told me she was going to help me with a few of my inventions, but she never got showed.  I got worried.”

Thompson scoffed.  “Carter pushes papers.  I doubt you have anything more to worry about than papercuts.”

Howard scowled at him.  “Only since she’s been here.  She was in the thick of it in Europe, Colonel Phillip’s right hand woman.”

Thompson rolled his eyes.  He said, “You’re late, Carter.  Why don’t you make yourself useful and run to the deli.  And take Stark with you,” and stalked off.

“Let’s go,” Peggy said.  Jarvis was waiting for them with a car outside.  “I can’t believe you did that.  I had it under control.”

“I was worried about you!” Howard said, throwing his hands up.  “I showed up here fully ready to tell Dooley everything, but he wasn’t in.  Then I heard fucking Thompson griping about how incompetent you are and I got so angry I clamped up.  Ignored everything they said.  I _know_ you’re competent.  You’re the most competent person I’ve ever met.”

Despite their odd friendship, the compliment still surprised her. 

“So,” he asked after a minute, “did you see him?”

“I did,” Peggy said.  She told him everything.

*

Peggy stayed with Howard as long as she could going over new information.  Around five, she left for her apartment to get ready for the play.  Howard still seemed a little weary about Angie.  Peggy chose to ignore it.  It wasn’t personal on his part.  Still, he offered to have Jarvis drive her to the theater. 

*

It wasn’t hard to sneak to the dressing rooms.  She passed a few cast members and simply smiled at them and looked important enough to be there.  No one said a word.  She located Angie’s dressing room after a few minutes and knocked.

“It’s open!” Angie said.

Angie met her eyes in the mirror and she dropped the makeup brush in her hand, standing and squealing as she met Peggy’s embrace.  “You came!  I didn’t think I would see you before the play!”

They hugged and kissed until Angie pulled away and said she had to finish getting ready.  “Better fix your lipstick, English,” she said with a smirk.  Peggy did and they promised to meet up afterward.

The seat Angie got for Peggy wasn’t front row, but it was still very good and with a great view of the entire stage.  The people she sat by were very chatty and helped pass the time until the play began.

Howard was right, Angie was really talented.  She acted the hell out of her role and by the end of the play, Peggy felt emotionally drained.  She stood with the rest of the audience, clapping hard for the cast.  Her eyes barely left Angie on stage.  At least until someone else familiar to her came forward to bow.  Dottie.

Peggy, for the second time ever, felt her blood run cold.  She recalled Howard’s words.  _There were two of them that I saw.  They wore masks._

_One of them was a woman._

Howard was right, they had gotten to her and without her knowing.  They’d gotten to her before Peggy even knew anything was going on. 

Peggy waded through the row of seats and out the side doors.  She wasn’t sure if Angie would go to her dressing room first or if she’d look for Peggy before the cast waded out to the lobby to talk to the audience.  Either way, Peggy had to get to her first.

She came to a door at the end of the hallway and found it locked.  Her kit was at home and she didn’t have the time it took to do it with a hairpin.  She tried another door and another and another and found them all locked.  She knew the theater had a back entrance so she slipped out a side door and ran for it. 

She rounded a corner of the building and nearly barreled in to Dottie, catching herself at the last moment.  “Well hi there, Peggy!” Dottie said, her voice echoing in the small alley, “Long time no see.”

Peggy didn’t have time for this.  If Dottie was the Russian woman, she probably had a partner nearby. 

Dottie’s hand closed around her arm before Peggy had the chance to react.  “Now where are you off to so fast?” she asked.  “If you aren’t careful, you’ll fall and break your neck the same way Angie’s first understudy did.  It was quite tragic.”

Fury burned through Peggy and she tried to wrench her arm from Dottie’s grasp, but Dottie’s hand was locked tight.  Peggy hadn’t noticed the strength in them before.  “If you hurt her, I’ll-”

Russian accent thick, Dottie said, “It isn’t me you have to worry about hurting her.  It’s my partner.”  Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Peggy’s.  Peggy knew what was going to happen before it even did.  It was her lipstick, the one that could knock out anyone you kissed.  Dottie must have stolen it from her apartment.  Sloppy.  She’d gotten so sloppy.

Peggy crumpled to the ground.

*

Peggy was shivering when she came to.  She felt the heavy press of several blankets on her and yet she shivered. 

“Whatever that was, it’s really done a number on you,” someone said.  Bucky.

“You could say that again,” she retorted, feeling the deep ache in her bones.  Memory returned to her and she sat up quickly.  “Angie!  They’ve taken Angie!”

“I know,” Bucky said grimly.  He crouched in front of her.  “They said as much in their note.”

“What?”

He slipped a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.  “I found this on you in the alley.”

Peggy read through it quickly.  _If you want to see Angie alive, you’ll bring the Winter Soldier to the Howland Price Automotive Plant at midnight._

“I don’t understand,” Peggy said, noticing they were back in Bucky’s safe house.

Bucky pressed a glass of water into her hands.  “I think you were the bait all along.  That’s why the left you alone, because you were the one that was going to get me to show myself.”

“But your sister-”

“I thought they might go after her to get to me, so I got her out of there.  If they made a real effort to take my sister, I would do anything to protect her, including kill them and endanger myself.  Neither of which really appeals to them.  They used you to draw me out.”

“Why didn’t they just kidnap Becky?  It would have been less complicated.”

Bucky looked at her hard.  “They would have lost the chance for intel on the SSR.  And I think the woman has come to see you as something of a rival.  The game’s no fun if your rival goes down too quickly.”

“A rival,” Peggy scoffed.  She drank from her glass.

“I almost went without you,” Bucky admitted, “but I didn’t know what they’d do to your girlfriend if you weren’t there.  I can’t stand the thought of more innocent blood on my hands.”

Peggy reached forward, letting her hand linger in the air above his in case he didn’t want her to touch him.  When he didn’t move, Peggy close her hand around his and squeezed.  Bucky’s eyes shut.  She wondered if this and the hug with his sister were the first kind touches he’d received since his fall in the Alps.

“I know this probably doesn’t mean much, but I knew what kind of man you were, Bucky.  You never would have done what they made you do willingly.  That makes a world of difference.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.  He looked ready to say more when someone pounded at the door.

Bucky’s eyes went wide, wild.  He grabbed his nearest gun and walked to the door so quietly, Peggy couldn’t even hear him.  She got up too, grabbing one her own guns. 

“Bucky?” a voice called.  “Peggy?”

Bucky faltered. 

“It’s Howard,” she said, and saw him relax. 

Bucky pulled the door open.

He marched right in, ignoring the guns, and up to Peggy.  “This is the last time you don’t check in and scare me to an early grave.  No offence,” he said in Bucky’s direction before realizing what he’d said.  Bucky remained quiet. 

“I’m sorry, Howard.  I was incapacitated at the time.”

“What happened?” he asked, “Your girlfriend get you?”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Bucky prompted.  Which, how did he even know that unless he’d been watching her.  Of course.

“They took Angie.”

“Oh, Peg, I’m so damned sorry to hear that.  We’ll get her back.”  He wrapped an arm around her.   Head swiveling to Bucky, he said, “Did I mention it’s good to see you again, Barnes?”

Bucky snorted.  “Stark, no offense, but it’s never good to see you again.  I’m still sorry you got beat up because of me.”

*

They didn’t know how the Russians would react if Howard turned up with them, so they decided he would go back to his safe house to wait for them.

“I’m tired of all this waiting, you know,” he grumbled when they dropped him off. 

Between the two of them, they carried a small arsenal, guns and knives strapped everywhere.  They left the car a few blocks away and got out.  It was quiet when they approached the warehouse.  It too was in Brooklyn, within walking distance to Bucky and Steve’s old apartment.

“I used to work here,” Bucky said, surprising himself.  “I just remembered that.”

“They’ve been hitting hard and personal from the beginning.  Too late to be inconsistent now.”

The outside was clear, though it was hard to say if the Russians weren’t already watching them.  And tt was impossible to say just how many of them there were, but Peggy figured it was a small group.  Small enough not to draw attention. 

They had no choice but to walk inside without more information.  Angie’s life depended on it. 

The first area of the factory they encountered was empty of anyone.  They made their way through slowly, trying not to draw attention.  The gunshots they heard outside the warehouse took care of that for them.  They dove for cover behind old machinery just in time to dodge a slew of bullets.  Bucky waited until the bullets stopped before he aimed at the second floor balcony and shot someone through what looked like a filing cabinet.  Peggy heard him drop. 

A few last rounds went off outside and then the door they’d entered eased open.  They were quiet, whoever they were. 

Peggy was closer to them, signaling to Bucky that she was going to check it out while he kept an eye on the second floor in case anyone else came out. 

She retraced her steps and found Dooley, Thompson, Sousa and Krzeminski crouched and discussing the warehouse’s layout in hushed tones. 

“Carter?” Dooley hissed when he saw her.  “Just what the hell is going on here, Carter?”

“Stark showed up again,” Thompson said, “raving about how you were in trouble.”

Bucky slipped in with them, making the men jump.  His eyes and gun were still trained on the balcony.  “You wanna be a little louder?  I don’t think they know we’re here yet.”

“Holy cannoli, is that Bucky Barnes?” Krzeminski asked. 

“Shut it,” Thompson said.

“So Stark was telling the truth?” Dooley asked Peggy.

She nodded.  “They’ve taken someone I care about to get to him through me.”

Dooley sighed.  “We’ll be talking about this when we get back to the office, Carter.”

“I look forward to it, Sir.”

Sousa, Dooley, and Krzeminski covered for them while they slipped forward through the warehouse.  They cleared the empty stairway and weren’t two steps out when Peggy and Thompson were tackled to the ground by a huge man.  His hands went for their necks, but he barely had a chance to hurt them before Bucky incapacitated him.  Thompson groaned.  “What the hell do they make Russians out of?” 

Peggy ignored him as she rolled out from under the man.  She was bleeding from the back of the head, but not enough to cause concern.  Then she grabbed the man by the shoulder and lifted him enough so Thompson could roll out as well.  He nodded at her. 

“Peggy dear, did you bring the Winter Soldier with you?” Dottie called out in that fake accent of hers.  They were inside the offices. 

 _Wait here as our backup_ Peggy mouthed to Thompson.  For once, he wasn’t in a mind to argue.  Taking a deep breath, Peggy opened the door and she and Bucky walked inside.  The room was bigger than Peggy expected.  Inside, Peggy saw three unfamiliar men, two huge and with guns trained on Peggy and Bucky, and one off to the side with a tray of syringes.  And there was Dottie, standing with a gun in each hand, pressed to the sides of Angie’s and Becky’s heads.  They were both gagged and it was clear they’d been crying.  Peggy’s eyes met Angie’s and it took everything Peggy had not to start crying too.

“No!” Bucky roared, stepping closer. 

“I won’t hesitate to pull the triggers.  Your sister will be dead before you can take another step.”  It was enough to still him. 

“Now,” Dottie went on, “there’s a basket on the floor.  The both of you are going to drop every single weapon you have on you in that basket, and then my friend Karpov here will collect it for me.  Then Peggy, you’ll close the door and lock it behind you.  After that, Barnes, you’re going to let him inject you so we can bring you in.  Agent Carter, you’ll also be coming with us so after Karpov synthesizes a serum from Barnes’ blood, you’ll be the first in a new line of Russian Soldiers.  For once I have to hand it to Hydra, they’re good with weapons,” Dottie added with a laugh

“If you do that, I will let both Angie and Becky walk out of this room.  Your coworkers, Peggy, won’t be so lucky, but you’ll at least know that you’ve saved two lives tonight.  So, do I have your cooperation?”

“Yes,” Bucky said immediately. 

Peggy knew there was nothing to hold Dottie to her word, but what other choice did she have?  There were still four other agents that might be able to take them out if Dottie and Karpov made it that far.

“Yes,” she said. 

“Nnnn,” Angie screamed through her gag.

“Doesn’t seem like Angie likes that idea too much, but at least she’ll have your kisses to remember you by.  Come to think of it,” Dottie said, grinning widely, “I will as well.”

They discarded their weapons, every last one of them, and Peggy closed and locked the door.

“Now, Karpov, won’t you please inject Barnes already?  He looks like a mangy dog scowling at me like that.”

Karpov grabbed his tray and moved closer.  It was clear he was terrified to get anywhere near the Winter Soldier now that it was an actual possibility.

Bucky didn’t flinch as Karpov injected him with needle after needle.  Peggy saw the grimace of pain on his face before he dropped to his knees and slumped over.  Her heart sank.

“Whew,” Dottie exclaimed in her fake accent, “glad that’s out of the way.  I really did think he was going to kick up a fuss.”

Karpov bent and cut off Bucky’s shirt to fiddle with his metal arm.  Probably to take it offline. 

“You’ve always been someone I’ve respected, Peggy,” Dottie said.  “I’ve heard whispers of you, even in Russia, of the woman that helped take down Hydra in a time when almost none of us were even allowed out of the kitchen.  I thought about you a lot during my training.  There were some days it was so hard that I just wanted to die, but you got me through it.

“But then I met you.  You were wonderful, that first night.  Strong and intelligent and vibrant.  But love made you soft after you met _her_ ,” Dottie said, pressing the gun a little harder into Angie’s head.  “I can’t wait to see what you’ll become once our scientists are done with you.”

“I can hardly wait,” Peggy said dryly. 

Dottie nodded her head in Peggy’s direction and the two men came over to restrain her.  Dottie lowered the guns. 

She was just beginning to make another comment that would no doubt make Peggy’s skin crawl when something came crashing through the window.  Glass flew everywhere and Peggy turned her face to the side to avoid as much of it as she could.  She felt her neck and ear get sprayed.  One of the men holding her wasn’t so lucky and let go of her, rubbing at the glass in his face.  Turning back, Peggy saw Howard sprawled across Dottie’s back, wearing some kind of backpack with a motor in it still revving. 

Peggy used her free hand and hit the injured man in the neck as hard as she could before turning her attention to the other man.

“Carter!  Carter!” Thompson yelled from the other side of the door. 

Peggy put all of her weight into punching his stomach.  It was the easiest way to get someone to collapse to the ground.  His stomach was like a brick of muscle and hurt her hand more than anything.  She shook her fist out and moved in.

He threw a punch at her that she narrowly ducked, and another that glanced the shoulder she’d been shot in.  She stumbled and heard the other man rise. 

“Don’t shoot her!  We need her!” Dottie screamed, her Russian accent slipping back. 

The wall righted her and she pushed off of it, launching herself at one of the men.  He crashed down, landing on his back with Peggy above him.  The other man grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her off like she weighed nothing, and threw her on the ground near where Karpov cowered by Bucky’s prone body.  Grabbing the remaining syringes from the tray, the ones meant for her, Peggy jabbed them all into the leg of the first man that approached her.  The man stumbled, fell. 

From across the room, she heard Howard get thrown to the wall like a ragdoll.  She had to help him, and fast. 

Using the few seconds she had before the second man made it over to her, Peggy scrambled to the basket of their weapons.  The man grabbed her leg and yanked.  The basket tipped with the movement, scattering guns and knives.  Her fingers closed around the handle of a knife.  He picked her by her leg so she dangled upside down and she slammed the blade of the knife into his stomach as hard as she could and hit the floor only a second before he did. 

She rolled away from him and found a gun on the floor.  Peggy picked it up and turned her attention to the rest of the room. 

Dottie stood over Howard with a gun trained on him, and shockingly, Bucky stood with his metal arm wrapped around Karpov’s neck.  The serum must have already burned off whatever Karpov injected him with.

“I hope you don’t need your little scientist,” Bucky snarled. 

Dottie’s face betrayed nothing because she’d been well trained.  She kept quiet.  It was enough of an answer.  The Russians did need Karpov.  Dottie seemed to weigh her options.  She still had three people she could use as hostages, two who were still tied to chairs, but she’d never make it to the door and she’d never make it out the window with someone who fought it. 

“Let us go,” Dottie said finally, “and I won’t hurt them.”

“Like hell,” Bucky snarled. 

Peggy could see her begin to swing her gun around toward Angie and she took off, firing her gun.  It hit Dottie in the shoulder.  Dottie dropped her gun, and scrambled to the window Howard had crashed through. 

 “There’s more of me,” she said, “You’re a fool if you think I’m the last.  Don’t think this is over.”

Peggy squeezed the trigger again, but Dottie was already gone.  She ran to the window.  It was too dark to see outside and by the time she made it outside, Dottie could be anywhere. 

Dropping her gun, Peggy rushed to Angie and pulled the gag from her mouth.  She cut away the binds and ran over to Becky to do that same.  Then she dropped to the ground, legs finally giving out.  Peggy felt glass pierce her palms and groaned.  Angie rushed over to her, grabbing her arms to pull her from the floor before she flung herself in Peggy’s arms.

Thompson finally burst through the door, Dooley and the rest following him in.  They all looked around, clearly not believing what they saw. 

“That sure sounded like a hell of a fight,” Sousa said. 

*

Dooley called medics in and people to work the crime scene.

Surprisingly, the injuries were minimal, with the worst probably being the places Angie and Becky’s hands were bound.  Unsurprisingly, Bucky wouldn’t let them test his blood to see if there were any lingering effects on his system. 

“I’ve had it with people experimenting on me,” he said, and Dooley backed off. 

Angie stayed by Peggy’s side the entire time, not leaving until Dooley asked if he could have a word along with Peggy.

“It looks like we lost the two agents assigned to watch Becky and her roommates, but the other girls are okay.  Physically at least.  They were tied up and locked in a closet.”

“I’m sorry to hear about our agents,” Peggy said.  She told Dooley about what Dottie said in the alley about Angie’s first understudy.

“We’ll look into it,” Dooley said.  “I also got word that Tim Dugan was also attacked and in the hospital.  The Russians most likely.  But I’m guessing you already knew that.”

Peggy didn’t say anything. 

“Some things will be changing around here, Carter,” he said as he walked off.  “You’ve more than proven that.”

*

After agreeing to come into the office the next day for a formal questioning, Peggy and Angie went back to her apartment.  They held each other tightly after they collapsed into bed, but sleep eluded Peggy. 

The battle was over, but the war was only beginning.  The Russians were still out there and they had Hydra to deal with once again.  Dooley was right.  Changes would be necessary if they were to even have a chance. 

*

Peggy awoke to knocking.  It seemed to the story of her life lately.  She carefully crawled out of bed, letting Angie sleep.  Habit made her reach for the gun she kept under her pillow. 

Opening the door, she felt someone crash into her in an embrace.  Pulling back far enough, Peggy saw that it was Falsworth.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” she asked, wonder in her voice. 

“This one rolled into town this morning,” Howard said behind Falsworth. 

“After all the fun was over, I’ve heard.  I’m sorry I missed it,” Falsworth said with a laugh.  Bucky followed them inside and Peggy closed the door.

“So what happened?” Peggy asked.  She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around everything that had happened in the last month. 

“Some damned Russians ambushed me in my own home.  A pretty common thing going around it seems.  They tied me up and keep asking questions about the Commandos.  Finally, one of them goes off for a vodka run or some shite and I watch the other fucking slip and fall and hit his head so hard it killed him!

“I knew there was no way they were through with me and the dead bloke was around my size, so I broke free and roughed up his face enough, gave him injuries like mine.  I switched our clothes and tied him to the chair and got the hell out of there.  Hid out at a friend’s place until I was healed enough to travel.  Officially, I’m still dead.”

“Welcome to the club,” Bucky said, softly punching Falsworth’s shoulder.  For a moment, Peggy could see the old Bucky. 

They chatted for a few minutes, Peggy constantly having to tell them to keep it down so they didn’t wake Angie.  “There’s something up with you all.  I can tell.”

Howard glanced at Bucky, then at Falsworth, and said, “We’re going after him, Peggy.  We’re going after Steve.  If Bucky can survive falling a thousand feet to the ground on Hydra’s version of the serum, who’s to say Steve didn’t survive his crash landing?  There’s so much we still don’t know about the serum, anything’s possible.”

She thought it would be something like that.  They all looked eager, like they were chomping at the bit to go.  This time, Peggy knew she would stay behind.  She’d love to see Steve again, but between the Russians and Hydra and especially Angie, New York needed her as much as she needed it. 

“I just…I just don’t want you to get your hopes up too high,” she said.  She worried what it would mean if they couldn’t find Steve, especially to Bucky.

“We know, Peggy,” he said like he could read her thoughts.

She hugged Falsworth goodbye, and then Howard.  “It’s been another adventure, huh, Peg?”

“May we have many more to come,” she replied.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said, offering her one last smirk before he and Falsworth left. 

“I asked them before we came if I could talk to you alone for a few minutes,” Bucky said, crossing his arms over his chest.  He was nervous.  His long sleeves and a pair of gloves covered the arm that was sure to put a target on him for the rest of his life. 

“I’ll keep an eye on Becky,” Peggy said.  “You don’t have to worry about that.  And I’ll make sure she gets back your medals and photographs.”  She went to her wall compartment, pulled out the pins, and peeled back the wall paper.  Removing the square of plaster, she grabbed Steve’s sketchbook.  She slipped a photo of teenaged Steve and Bucky with their arms thrown around each other inside, and handed it to Bucky.  “You should have this.  You’ll have some long days and nights ahead of you.”

“It took me months to save up enough to buy this for him.  I just remembered that.”  Bucky took the sketchbook from her and hugged it to his chest.  Seeing his eyes water up was enough to set Peggy off too.  “I can see why Steve loved you,” he said. 

“Yeah?” Peggy asked, smiling through her tears.  “I can see why Steve loved you too.” 

*

Peggy hugged Bucky hard and locked the door behind him.  Howard had promised to keep her updated on their progress and she promised to keep them updated on hers.  It was hard to watch them all go.

Using a handkerchief, Peggy wiped the remaining tears from her face and returned to her bedroom.  Angie was awake and rolled to Peggy after she laid down. 

“Are you okay?” Angie asked.

“I’m going to miss them,” Peggy said, her eyes watering again.  “Two of them I just got back.  And it will be so quiet without Howard around.”

“I’ve heard some stories about Howard Stark, so I’m sure you’re right about that,” Angie said, trying to relieve some of Peggy’s pain. 

She let out a watery laugh. “Thank you,” she said.

“Of course,” Angie said.  She raised herself up on her elbow so she could look at Peggy’s face. 

“I’ll tell you everything sometime soon if you really want to know.”

Angie brushed a piece of hair from Peggy’s forehead.  “I want to know everything you’re willing to share.”

“I suppose if you stuck with me after everything that happened last night, we might have a real shot at this,” Peggy said.  She didn’t mean to self-deprecating though it came out that way.

“I’m still here,” Angie murmured, leaning down for a kiss. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep everything as accurate to the time period as possible and did some research, so forgive me if things don't quite add up and pretend that it's canon to the universe the story takes place in! Also, I don't speak Russian and used google translate the Winter Soldier translation. If it isn't accurate, please let me know so I can change it!


End file.
